So mr. delagar said it. He actually said it.
I'm off this week -- he's not. He's started summer school, and is teaching a class and taking a class and sitting in on another class, so he's gone all day, from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon, working hard, poor son.
Me? I'm drinking coffee and writing away at book four. (I'm putting a plot in. After mr. delagar read it for me, he pointed out that it was missing a plot from page 184 onwards, which, he claimed, was something of a handicap. Curses. But he was right, and a plot is helping things considerably.)
Anyway: he asked me MONDAY to reschedule his medical appointment, which was for today.
Only I didn't. He asked me on Tuesday to do it also. Which I didn't. And yesterday.
Yesterday night he says: "Did you reschedule that appointment?"
"No. Fuck. I forgot."
"It's for tomorrow!"
"Well, why can't you reschedule it? You have a phone."
(He does. A cell phone. It works and everything.)
"Because I'm working! I'm in class!"
"Not all day. It takes two minutes. It's your appointment, not mine. Why should I have to reschedule your appointments? Am I your fucking secretary?"
Then he said it: "You're just sitting around here all day doing nothing --"
Ah. The patriarchy.
59 minutes ago
3 comments:
See, that's how Mr. Zelda is. Make my calls, worry about my meds., do it all and all he wants to do is be reminded about his meds, his appointments and all of that. No more, I say. You do it yourself.
Oh my god. We've had this same conversation and I've said the exact same thing, "I'm not your secretary." I plan his travel for him. Because once, he did it himself after one of my outbursts and he booked a flight from Fayetteville, NC to Philadelphia when he was currently located in Fayetteville, AR. He realized his mistake as he was walking out the door for the airport. Sigh.
He plans travel himself, but always has me double-check it or look over his shoulder. Hard to believe men run this country.
I got myself a t-shirt that says "Writing *is* real work." Can't wait to wear it to a family gathering. Although the husband is actually semi-supportive of the "sitting around doing nothing" part of my writing, the People What Raised Me definitely are not.
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