10 November 2010

"Welcome to my world."

This is what my sister says whenever my brother or I mention how busy we are with work. Keep in mind, this is usually in response to a question she or someone else asked. She's a teacher and spends a lot of time outside the classroom grading and planning and so on.

I'm not sure why she is compelled to do this. I've never once said anything about how hard she works or anything like that. I know teachers work very hard for not nearly enough money and put up with a ton of shit from so many different places -- again, for not nearly enough money.

So, why my sister feels the need to point out that she works at night and on weekends, just like I often do, is beyond me. I don't know if she's being defensive or she thinks she's better than me/us. Wait -- she actually does think she's better than me. That's pretty obvious. That response that comes up every. single. time. I say something about working at night or on the weekends. It is a large part of the reason I've taken to just saying, "I don't want to talk about it," when someone in my family asks me about work.

We were out to dinner last night for her birthday, and she and my brother got on my ass again about meeting The Boy I Currently Like. She'd said I could invite him to dinner. I mean, I half-assedly did, but it was not a scene for him -- loud, crowded ... not an environment that would be good with someone who has anxiety issues. I told them as much, and I'm pretty sure one of them said, "So?"

You know what? If this is the kind of empathy you show when you don't even know him, why on Earth do you think I'd subject him to meeting you? I swear to fucking Christ, everything they say just makes me want to protect him from them even more. Quite frankly, I get the impression he thinks you're not the best people in the world. He hasn't seen you openly insult me, as some of my friends have, but he's heard enough stories, I think.

My sister asked if he could come to one of their houses. "Or, could we come to your house?" Oh yes. I'd love to have you come to my house to meet The Boy, and while you're at it, criticize my housekeeping and any number of other things you think I'm doing wrong. I don't intend to ever invite my family members to my house again, if I can help it.

3 comments:

Emily said...

I'll never understand why some people get competitive over how miserable they are. I had a roommate like that in college. If you had a paper due, she had seven. If you had a fight with your mom, her mom was a sociopath. And so on. It was exhausting.

Jess said...

I have a "friend" like that now. I don't see her very often anymore, but I remember one particular night where another friend was talking about her brother's testicular cancer and Competitively Miserable Friend went on and on about how ... "I know. When I had my procedure for endometriosis ..."

Seriously?

Anonymous said...

"IT'S ALL ABOUT ME"
that's it in a nutshell. if i were you, i would never have your family meet The Boy. of course, i also think you should stop dealing with them altogether, but that's just me.

barbara