Monday, March 21, 2005

Be Like Pierre! Don't Care!

I've often been told that one of my biggest flaws is caring too much. About what? Everything and everyone? Nah, 'cause mostly I don't. But apparently I care way too much about the things and people I do care about. Like my family. My friends. My credit rating. My love life. My health. Whether I'm about to be forcibly evicted from my home. Things like that. How dare I feel strongly about those? I must be incredibly immature.

And I have to admit that, on those subjects, I am passionate. And the idea of becoming blase about these things seems just wrong to me. But of course that's because I'm wrongheaded and overly emotional. Or something. I always thought that caring a lot was an admirable character trait. America was founded on deep feelings and strong beliefs and so on... right? So where's the good in just not caring? Maurice Sendak even wrote a book about it.

But maybe there's something in the middle. Could I possibly care just enough and not too much? So that when my bank and my credit card company stop speaking to one another, I don't get overly anxious, not to mention angry, that it's my credit that's going to suffer for their snottiness. Or when I try and try and try for years to raise even moderately civilized human beings, is there some way I can possibly keep from yelling when a reasonably bright 10-year-old pours a cup of salsa on his food and then spreads it around with his hand because somehow he's forgotten the idea of using utensils? And somehow I still care an exorbitant amount about said child and get very upset that someone wants to tear him bodily from our home and our family. If only I didn't mind. Life would be so much easier.

You see, I've discovered what's ripping my body apart. It's all this caring. When I disover that the bills are all due tomorrow and somehow they've disappeared into the filthy mess that is our house and nobody has any idea where they are because hey, that's mom's job even when she's bedridden and drugged... that's when my spine seizes up and twists and eventually goes *SNAP!* If it didn't hurt so much, I'd be fascinated and attempt more research.

I was going to be all deep and philosophical about this post, but I just don't care anymore. Instead, I'm going to drug myself and pass out, preferably for several hours. Let someone else do the caring for a while.


Jack said...

I love Pierre. We read it to our kids so often the book disintegrated.

A.K. said...

From one overly emotional woman to another, yeah, caring sucks. But, I couldn't imagine being any other way.