The other day I was talking to my brother Sam. I was telling him about how after a month and a half of enjoying life with the family back in Denver, Jason is back working in Vail.
His company totally fucked him. He agreed to go up there for two weeks only to finish up this part of the job that apparently no one else in the company could figure out how to do. They said, fine, no problem, just two weeks and then you can go back to Denver. So he went up there two weeks ago, finished what he needed to do in a week, stayed the extra week to be helpful and because he's a team player, and then found out Friday afternoon that they had staffed out the other job in Denver and were going to make him stay up in Vail until the job is finished. And, of course, they refuse to be at all specific about long that's going to be.
I was livid when I found out, and have been alternately depressed and angry ever since. It just makes life so much harder for everyone. It's hard on me, it's hard on Jason, it's hard on the kids. But, to quote Tony Soprano, whattayagonnado?
Suck it up, that's what.
So I was talking to Sam and telling him about this, and he was sympathetic and pissed off for us.
"But, whatever," I said. "There's nothing to do but deal with it. This too shall pass."
"True," he said. "But why is it that we're constantly having to say that to ourselves?"
He's been dealing with some personal shit lately as well, and it's become his mantra. "This too shall pass."
"I feel like I'm saying that constantly. Like God's name should be "This Too Shall Pass." 'Hey, This Too Shall Pass, could I maybe get a month without having to invoke your name?'"
"I know," I said. "We did this for 10 months, Jason finally came home, Emma had her accident, you've got shit going on, Josh has shit going on. And right when it seems like things seem to be smoothing out, something else happens. It's like the shit is endless."
"Yup."
"Yup."
We were both silent for a couple of seconds.
"But at some point, it'll be over. This too shall pass."
"This too shall pass."
It does suck. It also blows. Chunks.
ReplyDeleteBut, if we didn't tell ourselves that, I don't know how we'd get through these things. Self-preservation, or something like that... sigh.
So sorry, love muffin!
This too...
Never mind.
xo