Damn the Difficult

Why is it that we make things so difficult? Why do we have to muddy the waters and only after try to peer through the debris we’ve stirred up? Does it really have to be all that complicated? It is because we are.

It all starts with water. Which harbor do we want to depart from? We act as if we have a choice. In reality choice is dictated by chore. If we get everything done we go one way, if not, another. Is it really that hard? I’m reminded of the heartburn commercial – “pill now? pill later?” Boat now? Boat later?

We dance around the scenarios – if you mow the lawn tonight and see your parents we’ll have Saturday to close the pool in the rain, mind you. The Me stuff: plants to water, garbage to take out, cats and their sh!thouse, vacuuming, laundry, packing, shopping. What else? The list is long. Why do we have to take time and talk Hawaii? It’s not my priority. What if I want to leave Saturday to catch Sunday’s boat? We would have to for a 9am boarding call. That means Boothbay is out.

What if we forgo finding our way to 04554 and we head to 04851 instead? Would that buy us more time? What time are we talking about? I know what I need to do. What about you? You need to close the pool – something about leaves and the filter and our house-sitters. I still don’t understand why we have to haggle over harbors. We could leave Sunday and take all day. Boothbay would still be in.

Then we talk shopping. Does it matter where we go? Does ME have something MA does not? No, I don’t have a list from my mother yet. Yes, I know that could take all day. Yes, I know I’m being difficult. Not as difficult as trying to figure out what day to leave, obviously. We ’round and ’round, thinking we can persuade the other. It’s up to you. Why me? You’re the one with priorities. Pool and parents.

I know this much is true. I want to get everything done. I want to make the boarding call with plenty of time to spare. I want to stop arguing about the particulars. I don’t care which harbor we leave from as long as the boat gets me to that one particular harbor I need.

Categories: Confessional, life | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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