12 January 2023 | Discussion on the train

Sometimes I shouldn't talk about The Lad but I do because sometimes I hope out loud. Quite obnoxious I know. As I said to The Girl, he doesn't play. I lay conversations at his feet, like an awkward puppy with a chew toy or a ball. He very rarely if ever picks it up. That's a no, right? I tease I poke I joke I jive and The Lad Does Not Play. So stop acting like a fucking dog at his feet Mae.

Old Mate grates on my every nerve. I find him arrogant, presumptuous and creepily manipulative. I often wish he would just drop dead, like I was in high school again, nursing a grudge like my genetics dictate. I cannot foster a solution that does not involve either one of us leaving the workplace. And so a holding pattern remains; he remains breathing and i grit my teeth.

Why are the older siblings the one who have to foster these instructions, these behaviours. We weren't parented enough to be able to parent our younger siblings; we only know what we don't want to do, not necessarily what we want to do. This isn't fair. But it is what it is.

Sometimes on the train with The Girl I feel like I could almost be normal.