26 October 2009

The Real Scare

Today I'm giving "working at home" a try, while various people come kill ants, measure for carpet, maintenance the furnace, and install a programmable thermostat. While this happens I plan to do some grading, and also blow the leaves out of the back yard. My yard is the width of a business-sized envelope, so hopefully this won't be too hard. I already did the front and it did not kill me.

It's strange being in my house alone. It's luxurious, and not luxurious, but mostly just creepy. Every minute of my home time is usually witnessed by at least one, if not both, of my kids. Right now I'm feeling very unsupervised. But I still need to get work done.

Without meaning to, I have entered into a phase of not writing. Perhaps it's an October thing. At any rate, there are no new poems to report. I was too tired Friday night, and so forth.

I know this is, like, twenty years too late, but I think I'm finally ready to stop trying to impress my parents. It's impossible. Even if I won the Nobel Prize my mom would still remind me that I'm not a brain surgeon. If I went back to school to become a brain surgeon she'd probably gripe about me not being the right kind of brain surgeon. It's just very disheartening when your own parents are incapable of being pleased with you.

Perhaps instead of working at home I'll go get a mohawk! That'll show 'em.


Kells said...


I think you're wonderful just the way you are.


Penultimatina said...

Thank you, Kelli!

jeannine said...

Dear Mary,
My Dad reminded me yesterday that what I really needed to do was go get that M.D.
Hugs, Jeannine

Penultimatina said...

Thank you, Jeannine. That makes me feel so much better, somehow.

Hugs back atcha!

P. J. said...

What, did they see your tattoo, finally?

Karen J. Weyant said...

Oh Mary! We love you just the way you are!


(PS -- with my family, it's always like I could be making more money somewhere else...the fact that I like my job doesn't count!)

Justin Evans said...


I think for some of us it just takes a little longer. My father can still get me worked up to the point of apoplexy. I still need to remind myself that I am not in any way living my life to be an extension of his, or anyone else's.

In fact, in the so-called 'success' field, in my extended family I am referred to as the slow kid because I don't have Ph.D. and I teach high school (as opposed to being a MD or professor, or lawyer, or working for The Jane Goodall Foundation).

On the other hand, because I am considered the slow kid in my family, I have astounded those same people because nobody really thought I would get as far as I did.

I have issues with success, too.

Penultimatina said...

Paddy, no. My mom has accused me of being too much of an intellectual. Yeah, I know. It's more than a bit absurd.

Justin and Karen, thank you for your notes. :)

MichaelWC said...

I like "maintenance" as a verb better than a noun.

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