Dilemma

I wonder if others worry about themselves as often as I do? Maybe I just like to worry...but here's the deal...

There's a young fellow in my environment. Now, I don't especially enjoy his company; especially when I get the feeling he's been drinking. He talks a lot. And, when he talks a lot, most of it is how grateful that he is to have me in his life; how special and wonderful I am and how much I've done for him. It makes me uncomfortable. It makes me feel like he wants something from me. I want him to hush and leave me alone.

Did I mention that he has a broken leg? So, tonight, I have come home from work and I am anxious to spend several hours being ALONE. By alone; I mean ALONE. Really. Alone. Solitude. Quiet. And by quiet, I mean QUIET. No sound. Perhaps I am an unusual individual; or perhaps I am just the mother of six grown daughters and quite frankly, I'm not so hot on lots of trivial chatter. I crave solitude. And, now that my daughters are grown, I can really have some. I can have some solitude without guilt that I am neglecting someone or that I am leaving something undone. I protect my solitude fiercely.

First, he wants me to take him to the store. I'm guessing that he doesn't want to buy food. I'm being judgmental. I said that I thought I was going out shortly. Now, Broken Leg Boy wants to cook. I know, that I was supposed to get up and help him cook. I was, wasn't I? I didn't.

The noises in my kitchen get louder and louder. The guilt is setting in. He stops frequently, he's telling me what an angel I am, how he feels like God sent me to him. All this while I am sitting here thinking, "SHUT UP!" How rotten is that? So I suppose his cooking has reached a break-time. My computer room is just really a corner off the living room. There's no door. So, he sits down on the couch and turns the television on. Did I mention, when I so snarkily wrote a list of things that bug me, that the television really is at the top of my list? Once in awhile there are a few shows I enjoy - (any other 24 fans out there?) and I like a good, okay, sometimes a bad one will do, movie on Saturday night. But mostly, the television is just noise. And I wanted......

QUIET

So, being the passive/aggressive individual that I've been accused of being, and perhaps am; I walked over, got my Zune and put in the headphones and cranked it way up. Randy Travis. No one else likes Randy but me. He left. He keeps coming back as if to check up on me. Once in awhile I sing along. You know Randy sings in a deep, bass voice, right? So of COURSE, I'm singing badly, crackling and off-key. NO ONE in their right mind wants to listen to me sing Randy Travis. He's gone now. Sitting outside on the porch alone. What a (insert rotten pronoun here) I am.

How rotten am I? The poor kid, shut up all day, with a broken leg, just wanted to talk. And I, the one who likes to imagine that she is compassionate and loving, ignored him, rebuffed him, put out really crappy vibes that must have screamed, "I DO NOT LIKE YOU GO AWAY!" Was this my chance to practice lovingkindness? Was this my chance to offer some support and guidance to a young man who could surely use some? Was I really supposed to help him cook; show him a trick or two? (Like I'm a good cook - not.)

Now, instead of my quiet few hours respite before a week of preparing for my daughter's arrival, instead of peace and selfishly wallowing in my last weekend of solitude, I am sitting here feeling guilty, like I've let down my vows or something.

Sigh.

Okay - I'll turn this weekend around. I will. I promise. Hoping you have a fantastic long, lazy weekend yourself!

~Lee