Plain Old Rude

March 11, 2009 at 4:48 pm (Life) (, , )

I really wish my family didn’t consist of flakes. I love them dearly, but they are incredibly unreliable. I ask them to do me little favors – like sending my medication, sending my running shoes, sending this or that. I tell them on the phone. I ask them in emails. I always get an enthusiastic “Sure!” back, but the next time I get a call, I am usually met by a “Oh, you didn’t say that” or “I couldn’t find it” with just a moment’s hesitation.

For God’s sake. I want to shake them senseless. If you know you’re going to forget, at least have the decency to admit you forgot. Don’t fucking lie to me. I’m not asking much. What you are supposed to send me is actual of importance to me.

Take, for instance, my running shoes.

I need exercise. It has nothing to do with weight, a little with fitness, and mostly because my voice teacher recommends it. I am constantly on edge. If I exhaust myself on the treadmill every day, I will be less jumpy, less anxious and less edgy and tense. All of those factors are not particularly grand in terms of voice training. It would be easier to buy a new pair of running shoes, but I am unwilling to shell out $60 or more for a good pair WHEN I HAVE ONE THAT I WOULD LIKE TO USE. We ran out of space when we headed to the UK.

Underlying that irritation, I am incredibly hurt because I am clearly not a priority to them anymore. I have to wait days before I get replies. I only get called once a week, if that, while my brother – who doesn’t even WANT to be called – is called multiple times. It feels like they don’t care; yeah, sure, I realize I am supposed to be independent at twenty and God knows what else, and I know I never cause any problems, but that doesn’t justify ignoring me.

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