Frustrations

My intention in creating this blog was to post a new entry every morning. I've succeeded in the first part; the "morning" part . . well . . .

I needed to run some errands this morning. The usual places - one bank to make a deposit, another to open a new checking account, the post office. I announced my departure to Dad. Being a grown woman, I appreciate solitude and freedom from being needed once in a while. I was looking forward to time in the car listening to a cd. However, I do need to tell him where I'm headed and my expected return time. Unless I do, he might just call in a missing person's report.

Not so fast! My hand on the door knob, he asked me to wait a minute. He has some places to go himself. So what could I, a loving and caring daughter, say when he needs me? Uh, sorry but two's a crowd? Or, I need to have a private conversation with God?

I still have issues with myself, namely. . . the establishment and enforcement of boundaries. I know this, but the very people I need to protect my sanity from do not.

So off to the bank Dad and I go. He needs me to come inside with him to make sure he doesn't "screw anything up." Maybe it's good that I did, as his papers almost ended up in a wastebasket as he took them out of his folder.

If I weren't so mad all the time, his actions would be funny. Like, "if I didn't hate the world so much, I'd like it." I'm quoting myself.

The bank visit went ok. Then we had to go to borough hall to get a replacement tax bill because he says he can't find the original. This is nothing new; his paperwork system looks like a tornado visits our house at least once a week. It feeds on paper. Every time he can't find a paper my son and I are supposed to stop what we're doing and help him find it. I told him today his habit of making copies of every bill and check that comes in the mail has to stop. He has trouble telling the copies from the originals and files them together. Imagine trying to cash a copied check, then not knowing what happened to the original. Yes, it has happened.

Missions completed, we're back home. It was when gathering up my things in the car that I realized I didn't even do what I had set out to do in the first place! So Dad went inside, and I was able to go to the banks in solitude as I had planned. Hey, it looks like I planned it that way!

While in the bank officer's office setting up my new account, my cell phone rings.

It's Dad.

Which is a better time for me to take him to his accountant tomorrow, 9am or 11am? I told him 9:00 (to get it over with early in the day, to be honest).

"Well ok, as long as you make sure I get up early enough." Of course. Isn't that what I do?

Returning home, my cell phone rings again. It's a relative. Maybe you have one like this, too. He needs me to drive to a store 1/2 hour away to pick up a big sheet of glass. It just won't fit in his car. Are you kidding? But he's in a bind and doesn't know what else to do. His voice is filled with growing anger.

I offered that tomorrow I am nearer to the store and it would be more convenient for me to pick it up after my lessons are finished. I held to my guns on this.

Remember my saying I was working on boundaries? This seemed like a good opportunity to practice.

He wasn't happy, but did say he'd try to work something out for tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.

After I returned home I needed my lunch. Don't deny a middle-aged woman with hot flashes her lunch. Ever. As soon as I opened the door, Dad says to me from the dining room that he needs me to go through his mail pile. "I was waiting for you to get back home."

Being the master multitasker, I was able to prepare my lunch, eat it, AND look at his mail. Everything looked to be in order from what I could tell. I wasn't actually sure what he needed me to look for, and I think he forgot anyway.

So I finally am able to write this post.

Blessings to all who read here!