Life and death
Jun. 20th, 2006 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmePregnant!Manager brought in the DVD of her sonogram today. Now, don't get me wrong, I think it's very nice that she's finally pregnant after trying for goodness knows how long (it's been at least a year, but maybe more). That being said, there are limits. 1) I can't even get that excited about the indistinguishable forms on my friends' sonograms, so forgive me if I'm underwhelmed at the prospect of viewing that of one of my managers'. Seriously. 2) Is there no mystery left in the universe? Geez. I don't need to know that much about the contents of a relative stranger's uterus.
On the plus side, I don't have to attend the little show. L has an appointment during her lunch break today, so I have to stay here and bravely man the telephones. Woe and angst. I won't get to see the smudge on the screen that's really a baby if you look very hard.
Again, don't get me wrong: babies are a Good Thing™. Moreso when they happen to other people. I'm always very happy for my friends when they become pregnant and when their babies are safely delivered, and Heaven help me I even enjoy hearing all the cute baby stories for years afterward. I just can't summon the same enthusiasm for a work colleague I barely know, and the woman won't shut up about it for ten seconds. She's five months along and it feels like it's been five years.
On the other end of the spectrum, I got the distinct impression last night that my parents have become the depressing kind of old people who read the obituaries to see which of their friends, family, or acquaintances have died recently. I can't explain how my father knew of the death of a distant relationship otherwise: he said that he saw it in the obits. This means that he was actively reading that section of the paper, something I never knew him to do before.
My parents are officially old.
It's weird, because I can't bring myself to think of them as old. My father is going to be 65 in September, and my mother is somewhere around 63 although she refuses to admit her exact age (don't ask, it's a long story). They don't seem old to me. Middle-aged perhaps. But old to me means my grandparents: the ones I knew either hobbled slowly with the aid of canes, stooped and aged, or else couldn't walk at all under their own power. Their hair was grey and white, their faces impossibly wrinkled, their hands and arms covered in liver spots. They were dignified and remote, and were treated with the utmost respect and not a little awe.
Somehow I can't put my parents in the same category as that. Yet, it occurs to me that my father is now the same age that my grandfather was when I was born, give or take a year or so.
What seemed very old to me a few years ago no longer seems all that far away.
On the plus side, I don't have to attend the little show. L has an appointment during her lunch break today, so I have to stay here and bravely man the telephones. Woe and angst. I won't get to see the smudge on the screen that's really a baby if you look very hard.
Again, don't get me wrong: babies are a Good Thing™. Moreso when they happen to other people. I'm always very happy for my friends when they become pregnant and when their babies are safely delivered, and Heaven help me I even enjoy hearing all the cute baby stories for years afterward. I just can't summon the same enthusiasm for a work colleague I barely know, and the woman won't shut up about it for ten seconds. She's five months along and it feels like it's been five years.
On the other end of the spectrum, I got the distinct impression last night that my parents have become the depressing kind of old people who read the obituaries to see which of their friends, family, or acquaintances have died recently. I can't explain how my father knew of the death of a distant relationship otherwise: he said that he saw it in the obits. This means that he was actively reading that section of the paper, something I never knew him to do before.
My parents are officially old.
It's weird, because I can't bring myself to think of them as old. My father is going to be 65 in September, and my mother is somewhere around 63 although she refuses to admit her exact age (don't ask, it's a long story). They don't seem old to me. Middle-aged perhaps. But old to me means my grandparents: the ones I knew either hobbled slowly with the aid of canes, stooped and aged, or else couldn't walk at all under their own power. Their hair was grey and white, their faces impossibly wrinkled, their hands and arms covered in liver spots. They were dignified and remote, and were treated with the utmost respect and not a little awe.
Somehow I can't put my parents in the same category as that. Yet, it occurs to me that my father is now the same age that my grandfather was when I was born, give or take a year or so.
What seemed very old to me a few years ago no longer seems all that far away.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 03:46 am (UTC)Yeah, that confirms it, I'm a sad bastard.
Happiness is like jam, Phnee...
Date: 2006-06-21 05:03 am (UTC)I kind of understand what you mean about your manager. Some people do tend to drag others into their personal business with way too much information, or otherwise assume an intimacy which just isn't there. Nevertheless, pregnancy is such a significant happening to someone. It changes their physiology, plays with their hormones, changes their appetites, gives them cravings, aversions and morning sickness, makes them uncomfortable, causes them to appreciate that they are responsible for another life's chances for entering the world and in general pulls them down a life path which is different than what they are used to during most of the rest of their lives. It is joy, exaltation, anxiety, worry, impatience, love, pride... Frankly, as a man, I find it hard to understand how women in that state manage to keep their mouths shut about it at all.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 07:16 am (UTC)Re: Happiness is like jam, Phnee...
Date: 2006-06-21 10:57 am (UTC)It's the "My Life Is The Most Fascinating Life Ever Lived" dysfunction, and it's sadly common. I worked with a pack of harpies like that at my last job in Montreal. While I'm very happy for those who have good things happen to them, it can be very draining to be recast as a passive studio audience member in the drama that is their life. Occassional commentary and check-ins, sure! But showing sonogram DVDs at work (espeially when it's to subordinates who can't tell you to shove it, they're busy!) are like making the postman watch your wedding video.
Besides - I don't want to hear about the vomiting schedules/mucus emissions/pelvic contents of the girl who parties every week; why would I want to know about how often my (hypothetical) pregnant office mate gets morning sick? Just because one is a NEW MOMMY instead of a barfly doesn't make it any less disgusting/overintimate unless you've got a friendship behind it that has previously included bodily function discussions.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 12:13 pm (UTC)Liam says he thinks you're a Good Thing, too. HRH has taught him how to bang the bottom of his block box like a drum. Sometimes with a stick.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 01:30 pm (UTC)My mom's a nurse and reads the obits every day to see if any of her patients have died. It was weird at first, but I've gotten used to it.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 01:32 pm (UTC)Re: Happiness is like jam, Phnee...
Date: 2006-06-21 08:51 pm (UTC)Boors and bores are everywhere. Content is not the question. Heh.
Re: Happiness is like jam, Phnee...
Date: 2006-06-21 08:52 pm (UTC)A challenge
Date: 2006-06-21 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 09:29 pm (UTC)It's a difficult thing to realize and accept your parents are old... because it means that you have to realize and accept that one day they'll be gone.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 10:26 pm (UTC)Re: Happiness is like jam, Phnee...
Date: 2006-06-21 10:28 pm (UTC)Different issue. Bitching is a proven route of creating in-group cohesion and maintaining communication channels in a constrained environment. The water cooler is networking at its most basic. Bitching != the All About Me Show that some people excel at. It removes the interaction portion of a successful conversation, reducing it to Monologue for Audience.
The inappropriateness of Phnee's manager's actions is redoubled by the issue of forcing subordinates to be that audience, when they have no real recourse except going to HR. She is manipulating that unequal playing field to receive the enforced attention and validation that she seems to crave.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 10:29 pm (UTC)Intellectually I know they're getting older and that eventually I'm going to lose them, but it's a little more difficult to actually feel that. I suppose it'll hit home eventually.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-21 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 12:54 am (UTC)Re: A challenge
Date: 2006-06-22 03:27 pm (UTC)The solution
Date: 2006-06-22 03:43 pm (UTC)