2004-05-26 @ 9:22 a.m.
Let me speak to you of promises.
Itís all so ugly. Promises, expectation, disappointment. I just donít go there. Itís not very girly of me.
When I was about 13 yrs old I pretty much felt washed up with Life. I had been struggling mightily within the social framework of my ridiculously small grade school/ jr.high for 4 years and had finally accepted that I would never win there. Conforming didnít help because even once I was friends with people; I found they would turn on me regardless of our friendship the minute I did something deemed unacceptable. Stuff that was none of their business, and that I never confided in them about. Normal 12 yr old horniness-oriented stuff. I always figured that I was just doing stuff that they wanted to do, but wouldnít. Thatís why I didnít ask for approval, or tell anyone stuff. But I was always found out. Stupid boys.
Stupid Catholic school. Stupid repressed judgmental catholic girls.
See I got over the idea of guilt and repression because I never understood what good it could do me. But the thing I never got over was feeling let down. Avoiding disappointment whenever possible. That was my early training.
Of course, the best way to do this is by never expecting anything. Which is crazy when you are the kind of hope-based life form that I apparently am. Some days I feel like I am Snow White happy in the forest, singing in a helium voice and trusting all the birds and baby beasts that live in the clearing. I am capable of that kind of mindless hopefulness a lot- and the thing is that sometimes- a lot of times, when you attach that kind of hope to a wish using a glue made of sheer will, shit can actually happen especially if you also get to try.
I do pretty well with avoiding disappointment in general. Especially when I was with Sal I really learned how to be happy and hope for things somehow without ever expecting anything concrete. I mean I expected him to tell me the truth when I asked. That was really all I could do.
All this to avoid feeling disappointment? Am I crazy? Isnít disappointment a fact of life that I can get over as I expect others to?
Well, yes it is. The upside being that recently, Iíve been able to avoid disappointment without any effort. No daily Sal + low expectations in general = no disappointment. The equation has been working out in a way that almost makes me fond of math. Almost.
But yesterday, I made the mistake of calling Sal to find out how heís doing because Iíve been really pleased with his attitude towards the girls lately. Heís actually been attentive and loving, and also- when heís in a bad mood about something else, he has been careful not to project it onto his behavior with the girls. At least in front of me. That + the overnights + the fact he finally actually has a second job, = more than I would rationally expect from the daddyman.
But I have been informed I should prepare to subtract the second job/about to get some child support portion of that equation. Because working overnights ainít going to last long as I suspected.
I took for granted the fact that for one reason or another (his wife *cough, cough*) as soon as any of the money he was working overnight for actually came to the girls, that the job would be more trouble than itís worth. The fact that itís too much trouble for what itís worth in the first place, when Sal is pocketing the money himself? Not too much of a surprise.
Recap- by the time that child support services get their stuff together to take some money, Heíll be quitting anyway.
Sucks, right? I even put all my pieces into place this time- (it took a lot of energy, believe me) and I still get nothing. Getting nothing sucks. Even when you really expect nothing anyway Ėgetting nothing sucks.
Even when you are realistic and prepared- Disappointment visits you. Even if you wear black and smoke cigarettes and are a cynic ĖDisappointment comes calling. And even if you know that Disappointment is your oldest friend and it should at least respect your loyalty- Disappointment will always take the last Diet Coke whether or not itís offered, and itís only a matter of time before you realize the fucker somehow pocketed your stash of girl scout cookies as well.
I trust this wonít make the Well-Being give notice. Itís my favorite houseguest ever. I really am aware of the dark cloud thatís stalking me today, but I am not letting it in until it dresses up and rings the doorbell in a respectable fashion. It can skulk in the bushes and peer in the windows like an outsider.