Good morning or afternoon and welcome. Coffee? Tea?
To say the least, this week was driven by anxiety. I spent my work days ignoring emails until the last minutes – all those people asking for receipts can either get it themselves or wait. I was so far behind on my credit card reconciliations due to all the problems the new program implementation has tossed in my direction. As of Friday afternoon, I was able to get caught up to the 27th of September.
My supervisor told me to take it easy, that if I need to get off work early, I could. He’s so understanding, isn’t he? Unfortunately, as bad as the anxiety is at work, the anxiety outside of work is worse. I mean, do you know what’s like to be on demand for someone every hour of every day? If I don’t jump when mom says jump, ooh, you do NOT want to see the ending to that story.
If we were having coffee or tea, I would tell you I have little idea as to how my garden is going at the moment. I know I had to pull out a couple of cucumber plants lately but don’t remember when. It was done for the season, I could tell.
I have been tilling the front yard every night, trying to rid the ridiculous deep grass roots. My front yard is now “virtually” grass free though if you use a bow rake and peel back the top layer of soil, you’d find tons and tons of roots. I actually spent a hour clearing the roots that’s been wrapped around a manhole cover the other night. I was so shocked when I saw it.
My mom and I worked on the front yard until dark or until we couldn’t see anymore. My cousin came over and helped for two nights. Mom said he felt guilty for not helping especially after I bought dinner for everybody two weeks ago.
Mom said I should be ashamed, buying their labor with meals, but I feel I should not feel ashamed. They are family. Family are supposed to help each other. I have never asked anyone’s help until now when I have been deemed so uncapable of completing the task of redoing my front yard.
Believe me when I say I was reluctant to ask for their help. They haven’t been treated me fairly from the start. During the 3 years when mom left me with them, all my aunt had done was beat me with a stick and locked me outside in the dark. To teach me a lesson, they all said. What lesson is that? To grow a hard shell made up of anger and sadness?
My uncle often joined in with his sneers and taunts. I haven’t forgotten about it, considering a person’s sharpest memories stem from childhood.
So no, I don’t think I should feel ashamed of myself for guilting them into helping me. Considering all the times I’ve helped all of them in the last two years, the least they can do is return a favor.
I would thank you for joining me in this edition of #weekendcoffeeshare and hope we’ll both return next week.