Saturday, June 12, 2010

Weird day

I was having a good day. It began with a very virtuous morning -- returning my library book on time, mailing a box of paperbacks off to Operation: Shoebox, and donating a bag of groceries to the local food pantry. I rewarded myself with a lovely lunch at FlatTop Grill (including a "taste size" Triple Chocolate Storm for dessert, as I'm back on my diet tomorrow). Took a nap, and then watched a nearly satisfying Cubs game (see below).

Then I made my mistake -- checking in with my mom. Once again, something that has nothing to do with me is MY FAULT. It's as though in this family, my culpability is pre-destined, as though the dictate came from on high: Everything is always MY FAULT.

My oldest friend began preparing her home for possible sale back in the spring. She asked me if my brother-in-law (a maintenance worker by trade) would be willing to make some extra money, doing extra jobs around her house. I conveyed her question to him. He said that since money in their house was going to be tight for months to come, he was eager to do it. So I gave him her number.

He didn't call. He forgot. Fine, whatever. Shit happens.

More than a month went by. My friend wrote out a list of projects she wanted my brother-in-law to do and handed it to my niece to take home and place in her dad's hand. My niece complied.

So I heard (through my mother) that my brother-in-law called my oldest friend "yesterday" and she "still" hasn't called back. Give me a fucking break. The woman is a single, working mother, trying to decide whether or not to change jobs, sell her home and move 2000 miles away this summer, and my sister* is upset that she didn't return my brother-in-law's months overdue call instantly.

So my brother-in-law finally makes his way to my oldest friend's house last Saturday. He spent the day there, accomplishing everything on her list. She paid him, and mentioned to me that he did a good job and was "a godsend." I thought it all went well. I thought this was the end of it. I know my friend thinks it's the end of it.

But today my mom asked why he's not going to my friend's home anymore. What was the problem? Is she unhappy with what he charged or something?

My mother is asking because clearly my sister* was expecting him to make more money at my friend's house than he did. I am supposed to impose myself into this somehow. Fix it. Make it better. Get my sister more money somehow.

My brother-in-law is knocking on 50. He has been doing these side jobs for years. I assume he knows how to negotiate his own price.

My friend gave him a list. He accomplished all the items on it. She cut him a check. Why are we even talking about it anymore?

Because everything is my fault. My responsibility.

It doesn't feel like such a good day anymore. I need a drink.

* It's always my sister who is upset. By contrast, my brother-in-law almost never gets upset. It's as if their household has a pissy quota and my sister fulfills it.

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