I have an acquaintance who I encounter monthly, when she cuts my hair. I think my last haircut, yesterday, might be my last with her. She brings me down!
She's a nice person and cuts hair well, but each time I'm in the chair I hear a monologue about how bored she is with her life, and how there's no end in sight to the drudgery. I find myself giving pep talks about all that's positive, and how she needs to just go out and grab some gusto as the beer ads used to command.
Nah, she answers, she has her job, and her dying relatives, and her "responsibilities," and I could never understand because I have such a terrific life, etc...
I tried to counter that my life was ALWAYS terrific, and hers should be, too, but she just stays mired in the negative.
Well, for years I've been happy to be a cheerleader for her and the other downers in my life, but I'm giving them up. I figure there are plenty of haircuters out there who are fun and funny. I want to look forward to monthly rituals, not dread them.
I really don't get it. My haircutter and I have a mutual aquaintance who died this year of cancer, at age 46. She also lost a relative recently, also a young person who died. Why don't these events act as signposts. To me, they are so clear.
One must heed the advice of Warren Zevon: "Enjoy every sandwich!"
I guess I hate waste. I have no problem spending money, but I abhor seeing it wasted. I inherited my parents' Depression era mentality, and hate to see food wasted. I still walk through my house and turn off lights that aren't needed.
The worst waste of all is wasting time --doing things out of obligation that give you no joy.
My haircutter might enjoy martyrdom, and then seeking affirmation for all of her self imposed suffering.
Nah --maybe some enthusiastic gay guy is the way to go next time.
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1 comment:
Touche'
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