Saturday, January 24, 2009

DOWN in the DUMPS...

Well, mostly just down. There was a fabulous performance at the academy, and after the applause died down and the crowd began to thin, the art teacher suggested that we join a group of other teachers down at the "pub." The appeal is that these are mostly younger people; the Goat gets invited because he's cool and, under the skin, really still seventeen at heart. I'm invited because he and I are attached somewhere near the hip.

Now, as the person with the least excuse for being there, what do I do? Start making jokes about age, and generally acting like the ass I now feel I am... I had two sizeable beers, pints, I suppose, and have been trying to figure out ever since then how much wine that would be.

When beer doesn't come in bottles I can't keep track of it... but a pint is half a quart, so I have had a quart of beer at 5% alcohol, which would be about 2/5 of a liter of wine at 12-1/2%, a little less, or something like half a bottle, if my math is surviving the onslaught of fat-dissolving chemicals.

No, that isn't the problem, though of course it makes it worse. The problem is that I did something I have done all my life: vent in a group things I would never say to people alone. My ex-wife hated it, and I can see that it doesn't go over particularly well with the Goat, either. Things that might have been shrugged off as borderline funny, or as not funny but not worth worrying about, suddenly seem quite different when uttered in the presence of others. Especially when those others are the Goat's colleagues.

I always said I wasn't cut out to be a faculty wife. It was bad enough when I was theoretically in charge of my own destiny, and my shortcomings were just part of what those along for the ride had to put up with. But I am definitely the sidecar on this vehicle, and I should [if not now, when?] finally learn to keep my mouth shut. It's the old tale: as soon as I begin to feel "at home," the good behavior goes right out the window.

Add to that the fact that the Goat and I had a fairly upsetting afternoon before the performance--nothing spectacular, just a get-together which was meant to make up for my taking off for points north this weekend, which I can see now [the get-together] was just a terrible idea from the beginning. Fridays are one of the worst days in his week; I should have known better than to accept the offer of getting together on a Friday...

Oh, well. And this was the good day. Yesterday I wasted the whole day trying to do something in my apartment that [a] was a complete waste of time to begin with, because there are only so many places to put a TV set in a small space, and [b] kept me from getting work done which I need to have done to prepare for the grilling I am going to get about it this weekend at my project review. It really almost seems like I am trying to screw up my life. I got so depressed that I sat and watched a movie until way too late, and drank wine and ate a jar of pistachios. The typical bad night from last year, when I had the excuse of being far away from the One I Loved. Now, I'm just depressed. Oh, well.

Maybe, with luck, I'll keep my mouth shut this weekend.
But I'm not betting on it...

Beer: so much more than just a breakfast food.

sigh
c

2 comments:

  1. Oh thank god there is soneone out there very much like me. I work from home and read way to many blogs (which I actually enjoy).

    I lack focus......will I don't lack it I just don't use it.

    Chin up and FOCUS!

    ReplyDelete
  2. So, what happened? Are you still in the dumps? Let us know. Ernesto

    http://the-day-after-suicide.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete