Feb 23, 2009 01:38
sometimes i think that the reason i cut so many people out of my life 5 or 6 years ago is because i secretly am a pushover. and one day i just got sick of it. and for a short while i genuinely reveled in backlashing against that violently, like a scimitar, letting heads and limbs fall where they may. losing friends, gaining enemies, isolating myself from all the people who disappointed me and i just rolled with it. all the people that done did me wrong and showed no remorse, and rather than stand my ground i just pretended it was all okay.
i've been wondering, for all my show of strong will, argumentative stances and just general contrariness-- am i a pushover after all? do i just willingly walk back into bad situations? do i let things go when i shouldn't, because i'm afraid of losing everything besides my dignity? do i do too much for little gain or credit, including any good feelings i could be getting out of doing more meaningful work or by demanding fair treatment?
today i helped out at the souper bowl. we were cleaning up after and eventually it got to stacking chairs. we were all making our own individual stacks. as i was working this guy came up to me and said: "If you're going to stack chairs you need to stack them flush." then he fixed the one chair on top that wasn't flush yet. it was useful advice but i had to wonder at his phrasing. what did he mean "if you're going to stack chairs?" was he implying i was too stupid to but they'd tolerate it if i just didn't fuck up? i found it hard to let go, especially with what he said a few minutes later.
before chair stacking, i'd been cleaning off tables with a rag. because there was only one bottle of cleaner, in the hands of another worker, i was basically clearing them off after she sprayed them. not a bad deal, but i ran out of tables and that's why i started stacking chairs. so i had the rag, and figured i might as well wipe crumbs and soup off the chairs with them before i stacked them together. i was doing that-- wiping a chair off, stacking it, lather rinse repeat-- when i heard this same guy saying "i need a chair wipe here." i stopped stacking chairs, looked around, and he was standing right there next to me holding out his chair.
i mean, what was i, his chair wipe girl? was i to get him coffee next? how fucking presumptuous was that?
i was telling ken about this, and enumerating all the things "i should have" done. i should have ignored him, i should have told him to wipe it himself. i should have handed him the rag silently. i should have said "if you're going to stack chairs, you should get your own wipe." and on and on. finally ken asked, "well what did you do?"
and i wanted to kill myself as i told him what i did do.
"i wiped it."
the regular kind of angst,
exposition