Sideways

Not the movie. Which was good and you should check it out if you haven't seen it yet. But I mean sideways is what happens when feelings want to get out and you don't particularly want them to.

I was picking up The Mama yesterday to go for a hot tub and sushi experience. I accidentally parked myself in someone's driveway a little bit and as I got out, a man came out of the house belonging to said driveway and very nicely informed me that I was in his driveway and since he was planning to leave soon could I please move?

If you live in the suburbs or don't own a car then perhaps you're not acquainted with the giant pain in the ass it is when you can't get your car out because some nincompoop doesn't know how to park, or maybe does and was just too damn lazy to circle the block one more time or just park on the sidewalk like all the normal people do, but it's rilly rilly annoying. That he was so nice about it speaks volumes about him, or maybe he was that scary calm people get right before they go homicidal bonkers. I hadn't considered that possibility until just now.

Flustered, I apologized, got back into the car and BWAH HAWHA the waterworks came on accompanied by the ever-helpful self-flagellation: I'm such a bad parker! How could I have not seen the driveway! I shouldn't even have a license! I have NO BUSINESS being behind the wheel! etc.

All the while the tiny voice of logic reminds me that this isn't really about parking but it's so much easier than thinking about that Other Thing that I really don't want to think about: it's Mother's Day and I can't call or send a card or feel guilty because I forgot to do one or both of the above things in fact I can't do anything but be sad and frankly that doesn't feel very good at all and in no time I'll be thinking about my dead grandmother and dead cat and understand viscerally why people abuse substances.

So yeah. Sideways. Grief is tricky like that and though I know there's no way but through, sometimes I still want to fight about it. Maybe I can win if I make a big scene and yell a lot, all intimidating like, "Death, I am so sick of your ass! I don't want to see you around here anymore, you hear me?" and Death and Grief will skulk off and pick on someone else, big fucking bullies.

But I know, oh I know, you never win that fight. Not for long, anyway. Pay now or pay later, and later can mean in the dressing room at TJ Maxx where you can't comprehend HOW FAT MY ARMS LOOK IN THAT SHIRT BWAH HAWHAHW. Yup. Sideways.