A friend once told me that she appreciated how I never had anything bad to say about other people, that I wasn’t a gossip. I responded, it’s cause I don’t care about anyone else. Hey, it's only the truth. That’s why you can also share your secrets with me and I won’t tell. I won’t even remember them within half an hour, cause I’m probably not even listening to what you tell me.
This frustrates my poor husband, who doesn’t understand why I’m apparently so proud that I’m a jerk. It’s not that, it’s just that I realize people don’t really change. Not deep down, not that much. This is who I am. Maybe I’m selfish, but I’m a good cook and I’m smart. And being selfish about some things doesn’t necessarily make me selfish about everything.
For instance, if we’re both sitting, all comfy, wrapped in blankets and watching a movie, or whatever, and I ask my husband to do something for me, it turns into a fight. He’s not going to get up and kill that spider or get me something to drink or whatever. Even though he knows I can’t exist in the same room with a spider, dead or alive. He knows I’m going to start whining about it, but he just won’t get up and deal. On the other hand, if he asks me to go get him something, or even if he doesn’t ask, if he just realizes he needs a cough drop or hot chocolate or something, I’ll get up and go get it. I just will. I like him and I have no problem missing part of the movie or whatever, to do something for him.
Of course, if I point this out, then I’ve ruined it. He needs to realize this for himself. But he never will. He’s a guy.
I think that’s a major issue for me. I figure things out, I process information quickly. So sometimes, I want to tell people stuff that I should let them figure out on their own. But I’m too impatient to wait for them to catch up with me. Did I also mention that along with being selfish and shallow, I’m also impatient and a tad bit arrogant. Or maybe I’m just a snob, which is kinda like being arrogant, but not quite.
It’s the area I grew up in. We’re all snobs. Sort of like attorneys, who are given that little extra thing when they go through law school, some little gene, that makes them a little bit better than all the rest of us. Either they get it in law school or they’re born with it and it’s what makes them want to be lawyers in the first place. I’ve never been able to work that one out to my satisfaction.
But, in any case, it’s like that where I grew up. We’re from a slightly-higher-than-middle-class income area and it’s been around for a while, it’s old money, if you know what I mean. We’re not nouveau riche. (Of course, I'm not any kind of rich, but that's beside the point here.)
Those types of things, the little class distinctions that I’m apt to make, are just cause of where I grew up. We still believe in a caste system. I’m almost not even kidding.
It makes my husband crazy, but that’s just he’s not from Williamsville. Seriously. If he was, he’d understand, but he grew up in Cheektowaga.
So you can see what I mean, right?
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