15 March 2012

Good Self vs Bad Self

It could be Life, it could be Hormones.  It's probably both, neither of them having much respect for me at all.

At the end of a day like today, I wander around the house having an argumentative mental dialogue where my Good Self sounds like a diplomatic counsellor who is on the losing side, and my Bad Self sounds more and more like Basil Fawlty as the conversation goes on.

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Good Self:  Well.  So.  Hm.  How do you think today went?

Bad Self:  What is WRONG with you?  You were there!  YOU saw it!  How do YOU think it went?

Good Self:  Hmm. 

Bad Self:  Clearly, these three children and this new baby would do MUCH better if they had a better mother ...

Good Self:  Now don't start that again.  You know where that leads you.  You end up crying and then you cry until you vomit, then you vomit until you lose continence, then you have to wash all the bathmats in the ensuite.

Bad Self:  I REMEMBER that!  You don't need to REMIND me!  Do you seriously think that other women manage the sort of rubbish I have to put up with, while maintaining an even temper and keeping the house tidy at the same time?!?

Good Self:  Look, I'll be honest.  They all do.  But let's have a bit of a think about how things are going here, and see if we can improve on them for tomorrow.  Now I know the laundry can get you down at times ...

Bad Self:  Understatement.  Anyway, it's only out of control because I had a billion sheets and towels to urgently wash and dry in the wet weather because of the You-Know-What ...

Good Self:  Do I?  I don't recall ...

Bad Self:  I only signed up for PARENTHOOD!  Babies!  Nappies!  Children!  Homework!  Teenagers!  Buying lots of food!  I didn't ask for head lice!  I didn't ask for intestinal worms!

Good Self:  I've heard that those things all come together.

Bad Self:  [withering death stare]

Good Self:  Now, you do tend to get a little angry when the children say they have no clean shirts and you tell them to look in the basket of clean dry things on the laundry floor and they come back after 6 seconds claiming that there are no items of clothing in there for them...

Bad Self:  What is WRONG with them?  Even Visually-Impaired Frederick could see the shirts in the basket!!  Seriously, if I got a little HELP around here then maybe the clean stuff would be in little piles in their own rooms instead of in a communal basket on the laundry floor!!

Good Self:  We could aim a little higher than that you know - we could consider folding and putting things awa...

Bad Self:  WHAT?!?  I could spend hours of my day folding things and putting them in places that people will take them OUT OF?!?!?  HOW STUPID DO YOU THINK I AM?!?!?!

Good Self:  Oh-kay.  Now tell me about this pile of laundry.  And those three in there.  And that one too.  What stage are they up to?

Bad Self:  Oh, WHO COULD POSSIBLY KNOW?!

Good Self, becoming a little scared, and wishing there were a Panic Button in this dialogue:  Uh - well, if you don't know, I'm not sure ...

Bad Self:  [Sigh.]  They're all clean and dry.  That's partly why I'm so angry - I did too much laundry today.

Good Self:  Maybe we need to take a break and calm down a bit.

Bad Self:  Good idea.  I am going to self-medicate with some bourbon.

Good Self:  Uh - but you're pregnant ...

Bad Self:  TEA!  I SAID TEA!!!  WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN?!?!?!?!?!

---

The next few months could well be long and difficult.

6 comments:

Allegro ma non troppo said...

I think I may have pushed the guy in the garden shop a little over his mental precipice quite by accident today. I bought some cute little plants and he asked how my day was going.

"Actually, I haven't accomplished that much so far," I admitted.

"Yeah, it's a bit like that," he agreed. "We're trying to have a bit of a clean-up today, but... yeah," he said dejectedly as his wife dumped a load of stuff out of the office.

"And then you wind up with a pile of stuff that doesn't belong anywhere!" I told him.

"Yeah, THANKS for that!" he retorted, half amused, but half looking like he wanted that bourbon.

TEA, I'm sure it was TEA he wanted.

The Accidental Housewife said...

Oh. Dude.
Hormones.
I feel ya.

I actually hit myself in my own head once, I was so cross. It hurt, so I stopped. Turns out I was just hungry. (Are you eating regularly, between epic laundry loads?) Also head lice and intestinal worms simultaneously? Mein gott.

Here's hoping for a better, less infested tomorrow....

Xox

Givinya De Elba said...

Ha ha, thanks girls! I don't think we have both of those horrible things simultaneously, we seem to be getting rid of one and there are only a few complaints of itchiness from the potential of the other, but still. If I'm self-flagellating by washing all the towels bedsheets on one day, I might as well treat both.

Love the image of you hitting yourself in the head!! I will neither confirm nor deny whether that sort of thing happens at our place.

Givinya De Elba said...

Oh PS I am eating enough to feed the hippo I am apparently smuggling up my shirt. No worries on that account.

Tracy P. said...

"Look, I'll be honest. They all do." Hahahaha!!!! Why must all of our good selves THINK that???

Hippomanic Jen said...

How can you make something so depressing and negative into something so darn funny? It's a gift, but I'll stop short of wishing more of the same onto you just so I can get a bit of a laugh. (which proves that although I'm not a NICE friend, I'm not too nasty?)