Today I am unhappy
The weather is gray and a direct reflection of my mood. I’m less of a empathetic human being and more of an eviscerating, man-eating monster when I don’t get my sleep, and last night’s midnight party in the kitchen does not bode well for anyone I interact with today.
It’s a combination of exhaustion and tension — work-related, since I’m working for 4 surgeons this week instead of one — a desire to reach my fall finish line and make my first road trip ever with the love of my life, and the breaking point I’ve reached with those related to me by blood. I would call them family, but I can’t right now. I’m too angry. If only my anger would snap that family tie, but my thread of obligation is stronger than that.
Things that are important to me are not (always) important to everyone else, and I don’t expect them to be. It’s unfair to expect that my priorities, my joys, my dislikes to mirror anyone else’s. I do, however, expect that my priorities, my joys, my dislikes be respected by other people. Family should do that. Family should understand. Family should care, or pretend, even if they don’t. Mine don’t care, don’t understand, and don’t respect me or my things, and my camel’s proverbial back has been broken.
This morning, the straw was in the shape of a gift — a beer given to me that I can’t get anywhere except Vermont — and that I was planning on sharing with Dan when he and I go away on our beach vacation in 2 weeks (13 days, but who’s counting?). It’s important to note this isn’t an isolated incident - evidently I am governed by a different set of rules than anyone else. It’s not the beer, it’s the principle. I am so tired of being made to feel like I live in a dramedy called The Anti-Meg Show within my immediate family.
Consideration should be a basic tenet within a family, and evidently, mine missed that memo.