Frustrated

I'm frustrated.

It would seem that I have surrounded myself with individuals who all seem to be intent on having a great deal more fun that I am interested in having. Or am capable in having. Or think is realistic to have. But apparently this makes me un-fun, boring, a downer, etc because I do not prioritize HAVING FUN!!! ALL THE TIME!!!!

It's true. I don't.

So why am I so horribly boring?

Maybe that's because when I was 6 it occurred to me that I could skip school and play in the snow until I was bored, and basically just chillax and do what I wanted. Until the shit hit the fan and the whole Amber-Alert drama started. That was my first lesson in the reality that our society is built on adherence to rules and confirming to rules, even though there may be no articulable reason for it.

Maybe because I then came under the rule of a harsh dictator who taught me to work first and if you are lucky, play later. But mostly, work first.

Maybe it's because by the time I was 8 my life was so difficult and painful that I cherished my free time as my sole opportunities to reflect and work through my emotional turmoil through art, rather than play silly games that ended with band-aids and polysporin.

Fun is not something that has come naturally to me in a very very long time. And one thing I have to give husband credit for is dragging my ass out to explore different things and through those experiences I actually discovered many things that I found fun. Or at least, interesting.

One of the great liberties discovered by virtue of my separation from husband is that there are a lot of things that I genuinely find joy in. Things I was previously discouraged from doing and things I only discovered by virtue of that relationship, both.

One thing I discovered is that, to my great shock, I do not love watching tv. I do however, thoroughly enjoy experiencing television as a cultural art form that breeds analysis and conversation and research. Which means, I would rather spend 1 hour watching a show (anything from "Fringe" to "Big Brother" to "Rebus" to "Being Erica") and spend 2 hours digesting, interpreting, considering, discussing, looking up shit online and sharing that. It's the communal, emotional, intellectual exercise born from ideas in a show that I love most, not hours on end in a zombie state momentarily amused by a box with flickering lights. Unfortunately, I seem to be weird in this regard.

It would seem that a lot of people in my life, past and present, really like to come home from work, eat, and then sit on the couch for the next 5 - 7 hours until they fall asleep. Oh my god! This problem particularly plagues my current housemate as it did husband during the last 2 years or so of our relationship. It seems to plague a lot of people. When did we become a society dictated by television?!?! No wonder we are all fat!!

My theory is that inactivity breeds inactivity. Because in many ways, I was the same. One of the weird things that happened during these last few years was a profound change in me. I used to be the last person who was interested in going for a walk, or to a farm, or for a drive, or to check out some thing going on in town, or to come up with trip ideas. My life experience had not made those things seem desirable or possible. I walked because I had to. I drove to get somewhere. Farms were dirty and foreign. I had no idea what there even was to do and was often too lazy to find out or check things out if I knew. I was too poor to go on vacation. I was either working incredibly hard or just wanted to do nothing. I also had less than any desire to do anything in the way of housework or decorating. I had no ideas or energy in that regard either.

But then husband got sick. And suddenly all responsibility for both of our lives was on me. I had to find the energy (often by way of donuts and coffee, admittedly) to get everything done. At first, learning to cook, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, buying groceries - these were things I did for him. These were obligations, necessities, and done for the external approval of husband. But then something happened. Somewhere along the line I became houseproud. I began to care about the state of where I lived, having folded laundry, making yummy dinners. I started to look forward to opportunities to go outside and do things that didn't involve the couch. I became really fucking sick of tv.

That change was not recognized as a genuine change in me by husband. And ironically in the months that followed our separation, we reversed roles: my house was clean and organized, his was a mess, I was out all the time doing fun things, he was working or watching tv, I was planning exotic trips and he was visiting family. These are broad strokes and of course there are exceptions, but still.

The difficulty is that I now want a tidy house, folded laundry, a nice dinner, garbage taken out, to talk about ideas and life, etc. I also want to go out and explore my town and my province. I want to live somewhere I'm not ashamed of and experience my days instead of having them wash by in a haze like too many years of my life. The difficulty is: that only seems to happen if I alone do everything. And that embitters those around me. The rationale is the same whether it's the dishes or a walk along the beach: "I can't be bothered."

And the problems come because I don't want to do everything alone. And maybe that's unfair to ask. Because the response I always seem to get, whether it was from husband or sister who I currently live with, or friends. My interpretation is that there's a lot of laziness. There's a lot of this expectation that we should be effortlessly amused and have fun and everything should be easy and handed to us.

The reality is that I'm frustrated because I am not accepting people as they are. I want them to change as I have changed. I want them to work and adventure and then be lazy. In that order. But that is apparently not what people want to do.

So I'm bored. And overworked. And frustrated.