Instability, or: things my computers and I have in common
My Aunt left a brief comment on my Facebook status accusing me of domesticity, or at least that's how I initially read it. In fact, she was commenting about all the food I'd been preparing lately - I've made bread three times, pizza dough once, panzerotti, and now I'm working on hot cross buns and have to make vegetarian Cornish Pasties later because I didn't get around to it on Friday when I'd intended.
At first I was mildly annoyed, but that changed to amusement quickly. I keep forgetting how out-of-touch my relatives and I are these days, and that that's my fault; I never contact anyone myself because my parents pass everything along anyway. Note to self: e-mail Grandma and Grandpa. Stat.
So, yeah - I am pretty domesticated... but not by some male humanthingy. I wonder if she knows STBXH and I are separated and divorcing. I had just assumed the family grapevine would take care of that one.
If I want to bake I'll bake. It's not like I was going to tell her, "Actually, I have to get by on $120 for groceries this entire month, so I'm trying to make stuff I can freeze and hope it'll be enough food for Wee Boy and I until May." It would be embarrassing and isn't really her business anyhow.
So why did the comment bother me? I guess I always associated the term "domestic" with the idea of being owned, and I'm in a wobbly phase of regaining myself. I don't want anybody to make the mistake that I'm owned by anyone other than myself - especially not me. Obviously, the sandbags need to be stacked thicker and higher before I venture out into the World At Large again.
She probably didn't mean anything by it at all. That's why voices are better than text.
At first I was mildly annoyed, but that changed to amusement quickly. I keep forgetting how out-of-touch my relatives and I are these days, and that that's my fault; I never contact anyone myself because my parents pass everything along anyway. Note to self: e-mail Grandma and Grandpa. Stat.
So, yeah - I am pretty domesticated... but not by some male humanthingy. I wonder if she knows STBXH and I are separated and divorcing. I had just assumed the family grapevine would take care of that one.
If I want to bake I'll bake. It's not like I was going to tell her, "Actually, I have to get by on $120 for groceries this entire month, so I'm trying to make stuff I can freeze and hope it'll be enough food for Wee Boy and I until May." It would be embarrassing and isn't really her business anyhow.
So why did the comment bother me? I guess I always associated the term "domestic" with the idea of being owned, and I'm in a wobbly phase of regaining myself. I don't want anybody to make the mistake that I'm owned by anyone other than myself - especially not me. Obviously, the sandbags need to be stacked thicker and higher before I venture out into the World At Large again.
She probably didn't mean anything by it at all. That's why voices are better than text.