December 9, 2005

I Am So Selfish

Yes, yes, it's true. Despite selfishness being a quality I quashed when I became a mother. Who has time for it with kids at home? The quash was only temporary. Having kids at home is only temporary. In the years since The Boy left for college, my selfish spirit has reawakened with a vengeance.

Wendy and I drove home from my mother's yesterday evening. All the way, delightful fantasies of long stretches of time with no one asking anything of me danced joyously in my head. I selfishly thought of the things I would do upon arrival at our comfortable little suburban paradise.

I thought of sitting quietly in my recliner in front of a fire with dogs in my lap, drinking cheap beer, reading quietly for as long as I wanted to do it.

I thought of sitting in our office at my computer catching on up All Things Internet via a connection that wasn't a primitive dial-up in a house that doesn't make me sneeze, wheeze, itch and blow snot everywhere. Goddamn Siamese cats. (Hell, I shouldn't complain. The view from the office is spectacular. Achoo.)

I thought of snuggling in our king-sized bed with Wendy and our two dogs, reveling in puppy kisses, a pile of warm bodies and familiar pillows.

I thought of waking up at my leisure in the morning, showering in our own shower, driving my car down familiar roads to spend quality time pushing paper around at work and reconnecting with my friends there.

I did all that.
It was good.
It was very, very good.

Except in the back of my mind was the disconcerting knowledge that I have to go back there. That I have to go back and spend my weekend there. My precious weekend will be wiped out in a haze of doing what other people need. Not that helping others is a bad thing, but in this case the things that will be asked of me are hard things, things on par with stabbing myself in the eye with a sharp pencil.

But I'll go. I'll do the things that need doing. And I'll keep doing them to the best of my ability until the needs are fulfilled. I'll even be grateful for the opportunity. Because I'm fortunate to have people in my life to love and who rely on me. Even though I'd rather bury my head in the sand and pretend the real world isn't really as real as it really is.

But you folks here now know the truth.
I'll be selfishly wishing I was somewhere else.



Mel said...

Well, that's understandable. I hope you get through the weekend with a minimum of eye-stabbing.

Career Guy said...

Interesting. I think I had the same transformation when our kids all finally left. All that time, all that space stretched out before me. I could do anything I wanted, anytime I wanted. It's not selfishness so much as our just reward for our sacrifices in previous years.

WenWhit said...

I know where I wish you were!

Elizabeth said...

Oooooommmmm...that thar was a sex-yoo-ul reference.

NAUGHTY! It's the Shizm list for you, missy WenWhit.

So sorry you have to go back there but really, will it be as bad as stabbing yourself in the eye, because that would really, really, really hurt, like uber OW. Not to mention the blood. Did you know that 95% of the blood in your body is in your head and when you cut your head, it just spews out uncontrolled. The clean up would be extraordinary. Plus you wouldn't have an eye afterwards and you'd have to get a glass eye and you'd be like that Marty Feldman guy who had one eye that moved and the other eye that just stayed there and if you weren't careful, you might hit your brain and, well, that might make you 'different'...or not.

I'm just sayin'.