The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Shift Key

M. is moody. He is quiet and focused on airplanes, and while neither of these things are unusual on the surface, I know him well enough to sense a shift in his mood. His laughter doesn't come easy today, he is not open-armed when I scuffle into his office, and he wears that smile, the one which seems forced and polite, the one I have no time for. As to why I can only guess, but I wonder if it has something to do with another uneventful week passing by. I've been scouring the job boards, and I even sent an email to the director of the employment agency requesting an informational interview to discuss career options there (she told me to call her in two weeks, and if something comes up before then, she'll contact me straight away), but I haven't had any successes so far, and yes, I'm worried. I know he thinks I could be trying harder, wonders why I am not out with a bag full of resumes, pounding the pavement and charming people with my 'go get 'em' attitude, and to this I can only say that I do not have that kind of personality. I am the girl with the skills that no one knows about because I am too quiet, too worried about embarrassing myself with shiny words and empty promises. I want someone to look at my resume, see the meat in it, and call me to schedule a one-on-one interview. That's what I want.

Also, he made mention that this is the longest he's ever gone without travelling and that he needs to go somewhere. I personally don't understand this having been only an occasional traveller myself, and I can't understand why it's more important to him to get on a plane and spend oodles of cash to do so when we need new doors in the upstairs hallway, as well as a headboard for the bed. For him, travel is normal and for me the priority should be the house. This is the fundamental difference between men and women: they are hunters and we are gatherers. It's a complimentary relationship, I suppose, but ultimately someone has to back down from what they think is more important to accomodate the other. Some would call this compromise, and I call it submission. So, he has gotten so crazed about this that he even expressed a desire to visit my parents, which is a problem given that I haven't spoken with my mother since this "you'd think i'd have learned by now" . My father calls when she's out, and sometimes he calls for her so that I will let her speak with the wee one, but there has been absolutely zero exchange between the two of us, something I can't deny being in favour of. Apparently, she has told both my sisters that she doesn't know why I'm angry with her, and I have told them both that I'm not angry anymore, I'm just not interested in speaking with her right now. She's too much work, I'd said. The problem with this strategy of mine is that it deprives my wee one of her only living grandparents, creating a divide between us and the rest of the family. I'll probably give in at some point, likely sooner than later, and I'll just have to deal with the frosty reception and my mother's razoredged tongue.

My friend K. finally called me back today. I sent an email to her a couple days ago, one that dripped with sarcasm sloppily concealed under the guise of humour, telling her that I'm fairly sure she owned a phone, that she had my number, and that I would only accept untimely family deaths as a reason for her neglect. I was kidding, for the most part. Then, today, the phone rings and lo and behold, the long lost prodigal friend. She made no mention of the email, and I didn't either. We chatted for an hour and a half and then I had to get to class. What stood out to me, though, was when I told her about the class I'm taking, and the effort I'm making with regard to finding a job, she said 'you know, I'm so proud of you! I'm used to you saying that you're thinking of doing something and then never doing it. This time you're actually doing it!' I was smiling on my end of the phone line.

I hope the next time we speak I can say I'm gainfully employed. I'll be proud of me then.

I'm open to change, now.