Another Red Queen Rant:
The smell of paint. Finally. Today MY painter came to start working on the ceiling and wall that got ruined when the skylight leaked (months, seasons, ago). I realized that he became MY painter, not so much when I gave him the deposit check, but when he deposited it. I became invested in him, so to speak. Yes, indeed I had. I know because I waited for him to show up as anxiously as I’ve waited for a date to show up, and was as disappointed when he didn’t show up. I was concerned about what had happened to him.
I wondered why I was so caught up in his problems, and why I was so affected by them.
Because I chose him. Because I was depending on him to do something I couldn’t do on my own. Because maybe I had made a mistake. Because there was/is too much drama in his life, and I had been pretty successful at not hanging out with people “like that” for a while. Little blinking yellow lights were going off in my head. Caution, and lack of patience.
People like that: whatever do you mean, other joan?
People who drop in and out, say they’ll be in touch and don’t follow through. Chickens. People I have to cajole or intimidate to get what I want. People who remind me that I used to be like them. People who do not bring out the best in me.
The Art for the Day is: Proportion
posted by the other Joan @ 8:05 AM
1 Comments:
Yeah! I'm glad he came at last! When do we put it back?
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