They say Mercury is in retrograde and that’s the reason everything is a fumbling mess. I say it probably has as much to do with this being the clear end to three incredibly stressful months. But I’m feeling it, neverless.
It’s funny the ways in which your own struggles blind you sometimes. You’d think that going through shit would make you empathetic, but I don’t think it always does. I mean, how long have I complained about the Butcher ditching out when my family is here and leaving me to entertain them while he goes out galavanting around? I don’t have the guts to look, but I’m going to imagine probably back to the inception of this blog. How could he, when he had to know how much I thought getting stuck with my parents sometimes is a grueling nightmare, leave me with them at the times when it seemed most grueling?
There was an incident over the holidays.
It doesn’t matter what it was, but it was one of those moments when… well, when you look across the table at your brother and see this look on his face like… Like I don’t know how to describe. Just that, when he said he was going to his friends, I cleared a way to the door for him.
It never occured to me, folks, at all, that he was hiding from them at his friends’. I was so pissed about the whole situation for so long, thinking he was just a monumental asshole, when really, he was in my same boat.
Afterward, we discussed pooling our Christmas money and buying massive amounts of marijuana in order to lace my parents’ food and drink with it in emergency situations when they’re here next. We both decided that this was a brilliant idea, but probably too slow-working.