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sad woman






“What the hell is wrong with YOU today?”

It’s usually me who is on their cases:
Please don’t leave the cupboard doors hanging open.
Can you turn off the lights when there’s no one in the room?
Push your chair up to the table when you’re done
eating please.
How about pulling the screen door shut or every fly
in the neighborhood will be in here.

Generally it goes in one ear and out the other,
and I end up following them around and
doing it myself anyway.
I’ve said these things so often they
don’t hear them any more.
Why do I bother?

Today I got the milk out and left the fridge
door standing wide open.
Walking into the kitchen my husband
gave me a strange look as if to say,
“What the hell is wrong with YOU today?”
Apparently it’s odd behavior when I do it,
but perfectly normal for everyone else.

Is there something wrong with me? I wonder.

The cheap silver tea service that I’ve always
loved to polish despite the bargain basement price
sits nearly black in the dusty china cabinet.
The tablecloths I change with the seasons
lie neatly folded in the cedar chest,
the Christmas one having just been replaced
on July 2nd because my brother was coming
for a visit and I didn’t want him to think
I was just plain lazy.

The silk flowers scattered here and there
throughout the house are last season’s, too.
Except for the urn-shaped basket in the
bedroom that holds last October’s autumn leaves.
And the white-board calendar on the
front of the fridge is still labeled with
February’s days and dates.

“What the hell is wrong with YOU?”
he might have asked.
I wonder if it’s ever occurred to him I
just don’t give a shit anymore.
Even worse, I wonder if I ever will.

At least that’s how I feel today…