Well, I'm settling into my new place. I like it. Tom called. It was uncomfortable, especially since he prefaces his calls with dramatic reports of dying prognoses. Am I becoming callous?
And then my mother called a week ago and announced a visit. I keep thinking to myself, her Majesty has come with the white gloves to check out the apartment she helped me buy. That's terrifying.
She's there now (I just got back from the alumni board meeting which successfully happened the same weekend she came to visit, but that's done now and I'm back in New York (albeit huddled in my office blogging as I wish I had a couple more days of excuse not to be there while she putters around and dreams up curtain colors)...I presume she's also come up with a list of chores for me to do in my own home. I'm 37 years old and I'm terrified of my mother.
It's 11pm. I need to go home. This is ridiculous. It's my home, even if she dropped trou to make it happen and I'm now feeling some sort of responsible for my almost 70 year old mother's well being in the world, and especially in my apartment. I barely take care of myself. I'm hardly expected to be responsible for anyone else. How do people parent and take care of parents? Are gay men such Peter Pan-philes that we go all helpless around these things?
No, I know fully capable gay men who parent and take care of parents. I've just run pell mell from those experiences successfully. It's time to grow up. When you have a fold out futon in your living room and your own place, mothers come to visit.
What other pleasures lie in store? Will I survive without over-eating, bingeing on sex after she leaves, debting, over-extending myself to emotional, physical and psychological exhaustion? Will I be able to show up for my reading for classes on Monday and Wednesday? Will I make it to class on time or will I suddenly start being late for everything? Will I revert to being an incompetent 3-year old while leading Orientation for newbies on Monday? Will I get my sleep and exercise and practice my meditation and prayer?
Tune in next week for a report on whether I had a melt down.
And then my mother called a week ago and announced a visit. I keep thinking to myself, her Majesty has come with the white gloves to check out the apartment she helped me buy. That's terrifying.
She's there now (I just got back from the alumni board meeting which successfully happened the same weekend she came to visit, but that's done now and I'm back in New York (albeit huddled in my office blogging as I wish I had a couple more days of excuse not to be there while she putters around and dreams up curtain colors)...I presume she's also come up with a list of chores for me to do in my own home. I'm 37 years old and I'm terrified of my mother.
It's 11pm. I need to go home. This is ridiculous. It's my home, even if she dropped trou to make it happen and I'm now feeling some sort of responsible for my almost 70 year old mother's well being in the world, and especially in my apartment. I barely take care of myself. I'm hardly expected to be responsible for anyone else. How do people parent and take care of parents? Are gay men such Peter Pan-philes that we go all helpless around these things?
No, I know fully capable gay men who parent and take care of parents. I've just run pell mell from those experiences successfully. It's time to grow up. When you have a fold out futon in your living room and your own place, mothers come to visit.
What other pleasures lie in store? Will I survive without over-eating, bingeing on sex after she leaves, debting, over-extending myself to emotional, physical and psychological exhaustion? Will I be able to show up for my reading for classes on Monday and Wednesday? Will I make it to class on time or will I suddenly start being late for everything? Will I revert to being an incompetent 3-year old while leading Orientation for newbies on Monday? Will I get my sleep and exercise and practice my meditation and prayer?
Tune in next week for a report on whether I had a melt down.
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