Hard To Hear

Bad news is hard to hear. I'm not talking about catastrophic things, just the mundane day-to-day stuff -- everything from your checking account is low to flaws in your behavior. Criticism is difficult but I have gotten better with trying to learn the lesson. I have a lot of respect for people who summon the courage to deliver unsolicited but necessary advice.

I've been on the receiving end lately. I stew. I mull it over. I am human so sometimes I get angry and other times I cry. No one likes to have their faults listed or to hear negative things about their family. But, I respect the perspective and I recognize everything is seen in a prism, depending on what's going on in your life.

The Belle and my mother agreed on many things. One of them was that I tell people far too much about my life. That is true. I think the bigger fault is that I expect too much -- from myself and others. Someone is always going to be disappointed.

Junkie

Big Daddy calls me a phone junkie. I don't want to be one but in all honesty, I might be. I think this qualifies as the pot calling the kettle black.

My phones ring constantly from 6AM to 9PM. Clients, friends, parents, kids ... it's usually someone I want to talk to. I used to get angry with my parents when they would turn off their cell phones or even worse, forget to carry them. My mom is much better but my dad still has a way to go. (I lost him for a bit at the fair. When I finally found him, I asked, "Where is your phone? I've been calling you." It was at home. I will fix this eventually.)

There are certain people I talk to almost every day. I need it. That's the junkie part. I'm addicted. I need to hear their voice. I hope they feel the same.

The oldies rarely answer our home phone. That's a relief to some extent because she used to tell clients I was in the yard with the dog or something else inappropriate. It's also a hassle because I become the secretary for all the reminder calls: doctor's appointments, hair appointments, your order is ready, etc.

But, the phone is bothersome. If I'm writing or doing something else, I hate the interruption. I spend a lot of time saying, "I'll have to call you back." I keep a list and most of the time I manage to do so. Then, when I've got a little time before the husband comes home, I start returning calls. Our free time rarely coincides. My mother works nights so she's headed downtown to pick up tapes. Friends are making dinner or heading out. Now I'm interrupting them. Yet, the dance continues.

I worry about my mother's working hours but there's a huge perk for me. I can almost always reach her at night. I try not to call after certain hours, even though I know she's still up. She's working and I respect that. However, I know she takes breaks and I know she checks email. Her standard email response to me is to answer my question or provide commentary. Then she almost always adds, "Go to bed!"

I may or may not be a phone junkie. I am definitely an email junkie.