Cut for rantage.

[second_banana]

My Grandfather has the emotional intelligence of a doorstop.

I am "finishing" a paper that is due tomorrow (read: writing the damn thing because I've been working and freaking about Mom instead of doing research) and he kept giving me these "oh the folly of youth" looks. That's fine. I can deal with that and I deserve them in part.

So the other half of my rant is that I have been on a fast track to an emotional break down for about a week and a half (with a few high points to make it much much better) dealing with my mom, my new job, and the fact that I may not be able to pay for college or housing for my senior year which I have to do on my own. These are relatively minor stress points until you put them all together. I have been avoiding some of my best friends so I can avoid having a major league break down on a fun day out. But, when Mom invites her father to come visit, I make nice.

My mom mentioned that "there sure is a lit of stress in this house," to which my Grandfather replied "where? You mean you? And her?," her being me. I raised my hand and he said, while laughing, "Oh sure, you're under a lot of stress right now" as if he couldn't believe that a young'en like me could be stressed. I nearly broke down on the spot.

Normally I can let stuff like that roll off my back because he honestly has no idea that he's hurting people's feelings. I calmly explained to him that I was indeed stressed and cited the fact that I was looking at how I was going to be able to pay my own way through midwifery school and my senior year of college. He seemed somewhat appeased by that as money makes sense to him. Then he corrected my pronunciation of "midwifery"... incorrectly.

That would be when I ran into the bathroom to try to pull myself together. He's leaving in a few moments and I'll be fine then. Sorry for the rant.

~Susan

Comments

[katlinn.livejournal.com]

*huggles*

[second-banana.livejournal.com]

*huggles back*

[heartofslash.livejournal.com]

Oh, geez, I remember that sort of thing. From my own dad. "What do you have to be worried about?" he would ask in his most condescending manner. Sigh.

I hate to say it, but it never really goes away. I called him to tell him I got on the dean's list, he spent five minutes telling me about my sister's job promotion (which wasn't really a promotion, more of a lateral move). And this was when I was 40 years old!

Practice letting it slide off your back. Give your mum all the love you can. And when things get bad, read some incredibly hot slash featuring hot men. (Works for me ;) Be patient - I'll have the next Army of Two for you soon...

[second-banana.livejournal.com]

Lordy. I don't expect him to change. If he hasn't refrained from wearing his ass as headgear by age 78, he's not changing anytime soon.

You have the best cures. *gropes you a little*

[elvensorceress.livejournal.com]

*frowns*
*kicks your grandpa cause I am just that mean*

You will make a lovely mid-whiff ;)

<3

[second-banana.livejournal.com]

Sometimes even old men deserve to be kicked.

Thank you for that.

carrot three.