December 14th, 2007
Or so it would seem. Someone commented on DadGoneMad that it seems like everyone on the blogosphere is just generally pissed.
(Speaking of DadGoneMad, where the hell is my HotWife t-shirt that I ordered either the day after Thanksgiving?)
Anyhow, it started me thinking about my previous post, and about the post I wanted to write after that about a mother of one of Punksin’s classmates who really pissed me off. Long story short, I thought this woman and I were friends – not tight friends, mind you, but we’ve had breakfast a few times and I’ve thought she was someone I’d like to know. And then out of the blue she calls me one night giving me a sales pitch for what seems like another pyramid scheme kind of thing. I didn’t even mind that, hey, we’re all trying to do business. What pissed me off was that she asked me how I was doing in the beginning of the conversation, and I told her how busy and stressed I was at that moment because Punksin had been home at that point for 3 days with her sinus infection, and now Pudding was getting sick again, and as I was talking, Pudding started wailing.
And this is where she defined herself.
Any mother who was a friend of mine, who wanted to sell me something, would have said “You know what, I have this great idea I want to talk to you about but I know now’s not a good time so call me later.” And that would have been wonderful.
But no. In the midst of the wailing Pudding, and Punksin asking me 5 million questions, she launches into a sales pitch!! And she’s going on and on about this Great Idea, and of course the idea is so great that she can’t really explain it to me but I need to come to her house for A Presentation and on and on and on and on and on… I tried to interrupt to say that it was really not the best time, (which should have been apparent what with the WAILING) but she would not be stopped. I finally was able to ask if she could just send me a synopsis by email, and even then she would not be deterred. Yes, she would send the email but she needed me to come to see this, the email would be NO GOOD if I didn’t see the slide presentation that she would be showing at her house at 9:00 and could my husband and I come to see it?
I was furious. I reiterated that she should send an email although by this point I didn’t give a shit what it was about, I was not interested.
I don’t get an email. What I do get, a few days later, is a message from her on my phone, saying that the presentation was that night and she was wondering if I was still going to make it since I’d committed to coming.
Can you fucking believe this? Really. CAN. YOU. Fucking believe this.
I didn’t call back (I was actually here getting the kids in bed when she called) because I knew that whatever I would have said would have been, well, not so nice.
But I do want to talk to her. I want to be the FRIEND to her that I had thought she was to me, and in doing so, I want to explain to her that I was really horrified that a FRIEND, hearing about the sick condition of my children and hearing, literally, the complete disintegration of one of them in the background, would not forge ahead with some goddamn sales pitch and totally not give a shit about the timing of it. I expect my friends – particularly those who are mothers and who presumably have dealt with a sick kid or two in their lifetimes – to exercise a little more tact, wisdom, restraint, compassion, empathy, and any other word you can think of that essentially would have led to getting the hell off the damn phone.
Okay. So that wasn’t the long story short version, that was just the damn story. What do you want from me?
Anyhow, all of this made me think, gee, is everyone just uptight this holiday season?
I don’t know. Are you uptight? Feeling a little stressed out, worried, generally unhappy and wishing it was January already?
I’m not. I’m pissy, yeah. But I’m always pissy.
I’m not draining my brain trying to figure it out. The Santa Visits thing, yeah, that had me on a rant for a while, but a lot of good came out of it – it’s getting my butt back in church and I’m taking the kids with me so that they grow up understanding that Christmas is not about a fat man in a suit. This other thing, though, had nothing to do with the holidays, and I don’t think my response was either unwarranted or due to any holiday depression or overload. I love the holidays. I’m a model of happiness and cheer!
And I’d like to know where the hell my HotWife T-shirt is, damn it!!!