A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mother, i tried please believe me i'm doing the best that i can, i'm ashamed of the things i've been put through / i'm ashamed of the person i am Dear diary: today i found myself stuck in the middle of another fight between my sisters and my brother. Neither side is particularly wrong in this case (as opposed to other times when neither side was anywhere near right) i am troubled by this on two fronts, in which case i do have to say that on the more critical aspects of the issue, my brother is more wrong than not, and our sister's similar temper only makes the matter even more shaky while i can understand his frustration about the inconvenience and expense that the issue of the house has created, his decision to turn his ruffled feathers into a full-on shit-fit not only undermines our bottom line, but more importantly, it threatens to undermine whatever family unity we've managed to rebuild since the strain we went through leading up to when my mom died and my brother was in a quiet state of cold war with all three of my sisters, and i don't know that any of the other relatively neutral parties in this issue have the emotional energy that it would take to play referee in all of this. To tell the truth, while i feel somewhat close to "halfway decent," there are still some days when i barely have enough gas in my proverbial tank to not step a second or two prematurely off of the bus-stop curb at one of the busier stops. 8:38 p.m. - 2003-08-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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