"And the ones that Mother gives you don't do anything at all"
I can't believe it's only Tuesday. Mom and Dad left for Texas on Saturday, and will be gone a week. They assumed, not irrationally, that their two adult daughters could manage to coexist for seven days without complete catastrophe. This was, perhaps, optimistic in our particular case.
There hasn't been any SERIOUS damage, and we have been superficially getting along, mostly. Except I have twice now made the mistake of cooking for us. My sister is completely, totally, and utterly unable to make a positive comment about something I do. It is NOT. POSSIBLE. I know this, I assume she knows this, so the logical thing to do would be to not speak when I am doing something you really shouldn't criticize. But of course this isn't how it's gone. Today, making lasagna, I heated the oil too much and burned some grated carrot, which set off the fire alarm. The stove was still on, things were still cooking, so I hurriedly fanned the alarm off, opened the doors to the garage and sunroom, turned on the sunroom fans, and went back to it. When my sister returned home, she naturally asked why the door to the garage was open. When I explained, she pointed to the sunroom and said in her best 15-year-old voice, "Windows, duh." It doesn't matter that I didn't have time to open the windows (which stick), or that it's been raining fit to worry Noah all day, I had obviously been wrong to solve my problem in the first way I thought of.
After dinner (during which I got an, "it's okay" that sounded more like "it's probably poison" when I asked how she found the food), I got shouted at for not having rinsed off the dishes when I put them in the sink. The dishes I put in the sink as soon as they were empty while I was preparing and serving dinner. The ones she washed less than 2 hours later, and couldn't possibly have gotten crusty. It's true that I also hadn't rinsed the dishes from yesterday's dinner, but I had (perhaps foolishly) not thought it would take her until tonight to wash them. And of course this turned into a fight about how it's MOM's rule, and not a universal rule that whoever cooks need not do the cleanup. Which, honestly, is how it has ALWAYS been in this house and in my experience, so just because she cleans up after herself when she cooks (taking this all at her word - I've never seen her cook in my life) doesn't mean that a) I have any way to know that or b) I should assume it's any different than it has been. In the end of course she did only the dishes IN the sink, left the leftovers out for me to put away, lifted not a finger to help arrange the trash to be taken out tonight since the truck has started coming before 7am (it's supposed to come at 11am), and remains disgusted with me for making her do anything at all (after all, why should she have to do the dishes, since she never asked me to make dinner?). I didn't expect her to take the trash out since she hates thunderstorms so much, but it might have been nice to have some cooperation getting it together and into the big bin.
I have about a million more complaints about her general behavior, and an infinite set about her behavior relating to her dog (whom I hate, but it's not the dog's fault, so sometimes I feel bad). It's probably not helpful to air them all, but they all make me want to slam her head through a wall. I particularly liked when I first came back how, when we both were talking to our brother about his future, she used me, in my presence, as an example for what not to do, who not to be like. Because I'm obviously such a failure, and anyone could see it's a terrible life I lead.
Sometimes, I seriously hate being around my sister. We are too different, and for all the times she insults me with how like Dad I am, she is EXACTLY like him in all the ways that matter toward being a person I will not voluntarily see on my own time. Family holidays? Fine. Anything else, or if it's just us? No way, not ever, no.
I am so unbelievably sick of her. I'm very sad that only yesterday and Thursday does she work in the morning, so I have to spend all tomorrow morning in the same place. Let's hope neither of us kills the other.
In other, unrelated news, I need to figure out what to get to put in my mom's Easter basket! I don't think she wants a lot of candy, and I don't want to drive all the way to Chicago alone to go to the Lindt store for it, I don't know what books she's reading/has/has read, I certainly don't know what music she likes that I can support (I'm still super grossed out that my sister's purposeful hillbillification has made my parents follow her, including listening to country music routinely), and I'm basically at a loss. This week sucks, and it's only Tuesday.
There hasn't been any SERIOUS damage, and we have been superficially getting along, mostly. Except I have twice now made the mistake of cooking for us. My sister is completely, totally, and utterly unable to make a positive comment about something I do. It is NOT. POSSIBLE. I know this, I assume she knows this, so the logical thing to do would be to not speak when I am doing something you really shouldn't criticize. But of course this isn't how it's gone. Today, making lasagna, I heated the oil too much and burned some grated carrot, which set off the fire alarm. The stove was still on, things were still cooking, so I hurriedly fanned the alarm off, opened the doors to the garage and sunroom, turned on the sunroom fans, and went back to it. When my sister returned home, she naturally asked why the door to the garage was open. When I explained, she pointed to the sunroom and said in her best 15-year-old voice, "Windows, duh." It doesn't matter that I didn't have time to open the windows (which stick), or that it's been raining fit to worry Noah all day, I had obviously been wrong to solve my problem in the first way I thought of.
After dinner (during which I got an, "it's okay" that sounded more like "it's probably poison" when I asked how she found the food), I got shouted at for not having rinsed off the dishes when I put them in the sink. The dishes I put in the sink as soon as they were empty while I was preparing and serving dinner. The ones she washed less than 2 hours later, and couldn't possibly have gotten crusty. It's true that I also hadn't rinsed the dishes from yesterday's dinner, but I had (perhaps foolishly) not thought it would take her until tonight to wash them. And of course this turned into a fight about how it's MOM's rule, and not a universal rule that whoever cooks need not do the cleanup. Which, honestly, is how it has ALWAYS been in this house and in my experience, so just because she cleans up after herself when she cooks (taking this all at her word - I've never seen her cook in my life) doesn't mean that a) I have any way to know that or b) I should assume it's any different than it has been. In the end of course she did only the dishes IN the sink, left the leftovers out for me to put away, lifted not a finger to help arrange the trash to be taken out tonight since the truck has started coming before 7am (it's supposed to come at 11am), and remains disgusted with me for making her do anything at all (after all, why should she have to do the dishes, since she never asked me to make dinner?). I didn't expect her to take the trash out since she hates thunderstorms so much, but it might have been nice to have some cooperation getting it together and into the big bin.
I have about a million more complaints about her general behavior, and an infinite set about her behavior relating to her dog (whom I hate, but it's not the dog's fault, so sometimes I feel bad). It's probably not helpful to air them all, but they all make me want to slam her head through a wall. I particularly liked when I first came back how, when we both were talking to our brother about his future, she used me, in my presence, as an example for what not to do, who not to be like. Because I'm obviously such a failure, and anyone could see it's a terrible life I lead.
Sometimes, I seriously hate being around my sister. We are too different, and for all the times she insults me with how like Dad I am, she is EXACTLY like him in all the ways that matter toward being a person I will not voluntarily see on my own time. Family holidays? Fine. Anything else, or if it's just us? No way, not ever, no.
I am so unbelievably sick of her. I'm very sad that only yesterday and Thursday does she work in the morning, so I have to spend all tomorrow morning in the same place. Let's hope neither of us kills the other.
In other, unrelated news, I need to figure out what to get to put in my mom's Easter basket! I don't think she wants a lot of candy, and I don't want to drive all the way to Chicago alone to go to the Lindt store for it, I don't know what books she's reading/has/has read, I certainly don't know what music she likes that I can support (I'm still super grossed out that my sister's purposeful hillbillification has made my parents follow her, including listening to country music routinely), and I'm basically at a loss. This week sucks, and it's only Tuesday.