The more things stay the same....
I'm sitting here tonight thinking of the phrase "the more things change, the more they stay the same"....but can the same be said for the more things stay the same, the more they change?
I keep wondering because I feel like a number of things around me are just staying the same. And others are changing way too fast for me to keep up.
It's an odd feeling of things being sort of stuck, or frozen on one level, and zipping by at 85mph on another.
And when it comes to work, I keep wondering, too, if it's me who's having the hard time or if it's really the work that's hard. I'd like to be working on one job with many different aspects to it, but find myself working many jobs with many different aspects.
Exponential growth in tasks leads to never knowing just how much time to spend on one job and just how much effort is enough effort. The stuff that feels like a giant sweater that keeps knitting and knitting and knitting (to quote Pee Wee Herman) is the stuff that I've just got to walk away from...
I've got a presentation I'm doing in two weeks and I have no idea what I'm going to say and how I'm going to put the power point together and am just way too distracted to think about. Bad thing there.
And I'd really like to write about my (non-existent)sex life again. Oh, there's not all that sturm und drang any more, but there are moments. I think that's why I am still living on my own. I want things my way, don't really want the potential of new drama, just want to keep up the old drama. I want to keep doors open, don't want the security....
Yes, Fear of Commitment--if ever a woman had a case of fear of commitment, it's me. I see myself getting older, and the need to settle down, but damn! I can't help thinking that something will just die or something if I settle down with one person and actually have a real relationship with a man.
I don't think I've ever really had sex with someone I was in love with--real in love with. That kind of love that you have families with. Sex with someone I don't know well and probably won't live with makes more sense. Maybe it's a shame thing, maybe it's a bad parenting thing, maybe it's a lot of little things that have added up over the years (Catholic guilt, Russ Meyer films, Playboy centerfolds, and a Daddy complex.) Maybe it's that I've trained my brain to be something like a man's in this regard, when it's really not supposed to be that way because it's always women who do the forgiving when someone cheats, always the women who hold the families together, always the women that suffer long and hard for that pay off of children and companionship in old age...
We live in a Man's World. There's no two ways around that, and it's not going to change just because some of us broads stomp our feet and hold our breaths and get mad at everybody for it NOT being a Woman's World.
Then again, what would a Woman's World look like? Certainly wouldn't be *my* world, that's for sure.
So maybe it's that the more things stay the same, the more they don't change.
Lucky Bastard and I go thru our usual verbal dance that happens every couple of months like clockwork: he starts talking about menage a trois and I tell him he's nuts and I don't have friends who do that stuff (really, I don't.) He starts insisting he want this or that, and I tell him he's nuts and don't even think about it because it ain't happening. And yeah, I know it's probably got something to do with "feelings" somewhere, but sheesh! just relax and enjoy my company, fer crissakes! And if I'm not to your liking any more, feel free to leave. Nothing holding you here. I'll survive--really, I will. I have before, and I still will.
It's not like we've built up anything of meaning. Not like the time and caring S.E. and I put into things.
So totally different. But then again, it must be feeding something in me.
Who knows.
Must be feeding something in him, too.
Who knows there, too. If we could ever sit down and have a conversation about things, it would be a minor miracle.
I can't bring myself to say that to him when he calls...to say "let's just sit and have a good old chat about what the hell we're doing here." At times it just doesn't seem to be enough to say "my partner doesn't understand me." That's kind of cheap. There are other things there.
Maybe neither of us really knows what those things are. Maybe that's what the verbal dance is about and why we never really dis-engage, even when we try to dis-engage.
who knows....
I keep wondering because I feel like a number of things around me are just staying the same. And others are changing way too fast for me to keep up.
It's an odd feeling of things being sort of stuck, or frozen on one level, and zipping by at 85mph on another.
And when it comes to work, I keep wondering, too, if it's me who's having the hard time or if it's really the work that's hard. I'd like to be working on one job with many different aspects to it, but find myself working many jobs with many different aspects.
Exponential growth in tasks leads to never knowing just how much time to spend on one job and just how much effort is enough effort. The stuff that feels like a giant sweater that keeps knitting and knitting and knitting (to quote Pee Wee Herman) is the stuff that I've just got to walk away from...
I've got a presentation I'm doing in two weeks and I have no idea what I'm going to say and how I'm going to put the power point together and am just way too distracted to think about. Bad thing there.
And I'd really like to write about my (non-existent)sex life again. Oh, there's not all that sturm und drang any more, but there are moments. I think that's why I am still living on my own. I want things my way, don't really want the potential of new drama, just want to keep up the old drama. I want to keep doors open, don't want the security....
Yes, Fear of Commitment--if ever a woman had a case of fear of commitment, it's me. I see myself getting older, and the need to settle down, but damn! I can't help thinking that something will just die or something if I settle down with one person and actually have a real relationship with a man.
I don't think I've ever really had sex with someone I was in love with--real in love with. That kind of love that you have families with. Sex with someone I don't know well and probably won't live with makes more sense. Maybe it's a shame thing, maybe it's a bad parenting thing, maybe it's a lot of little things that have added up over the years (Catholic guilt, Russ Meyer films, Playboy centerfolds, and a Daddy complex.) Maybe it's that I've trained my brain to be something like a man's in this regard, when it's really not supposed to be that way because it's always women who do the forgiving when someone cheats, always the women who hold the families together, always the women that suffer long and hard for that pay off of children and companionship in old age...
We live in a Man's World. There's no two ways around that, and it's not going to change just because some of us broads stomp our feet and hold our breaths and get mad at everybody for it NOT being a Woman's World.
Then again, what would a Woman's World look like? Certainly wouldn't be *my* world, that's for sure.
So maybe it's that the more things stay the same, the more they don't change.
Lucky Bastard and I go thru our usual verbal dance that happens every couple of months like clockwork: he starts talking about menage a trois and I tell him he's nuts and I don't have friends who do that stuff (really, I don't.) He starts insisting he want this or that, and I tell him he's nuts and don't even think about it because it ain't happening. And yeah, I know it's probably got something to do with "feelings" somewhere, but sheesh! just relax and enjoy my company, fer crissakes! And if I'm not to your liking any more, feel free to leave. Nothing holding you here. I'll survive--really, I will. I have before, and I still will.
It's not like we've built up anything of meaning. Not like the time and caring S.E. and I put into things.
So totally different. But then again, it must be feeding something in me.
Who knows.
Must be feeding something in him, too.
Who knows there, too. If we could ever sit down and have a conversation about things, it would be a minor miracle.
I can't bring myself to say that to him when he calls...to say "let's just sit and have a good old chat about what the hell we're doing here." At times it just doesn't seem to be enough to say "my partner doesn't understand me." That's kind of cheap. There are other things there.
Maybe neither of us really knows what those things are. Maybe that's what the verbal dance is about and why we never really dis-engage, even when we try to dis-engage.
who knows....
posted by Tish Grier at 12:09 AM
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