the shower curtain tragedy

I just got off the phone with my dad, and we had a really good, substantive conversation. My mother must still be mad at me, because she didn't pick up the phone, but this allowed dad and me to talk... and it was good to chat without feeling like I was being interrogated, like I had to justify everything I said. We talked about his recovery, what he'd been doing, the book he'd read; about my first week at work, what movies we each recommended; etc. There was no "why did/didn't you do this?" There was no one-upping, no cheap shots or sneak attacks from out of nowhere. At one point I heard yelling in the background, inquired about it. Dad said mom was yelling at him for "drawing the shower curtain the wrong way," making that out to be a major "tragedy." I was saddened by how much it didn't surprise me-- by how natural it was to think, "of course-- mom is having a fit over a shower curtain." No perspective there, no filter of "maybe this is not worth yelling about" or "maybe yelling is not the best way to get the shower curtain drawn the right way in the future;" just a seized opportunity to yell about something.

I was angry at my mother earlier this week, and that anger just grew... into meta-anger that she could scold me over something she was wrong about, and still affect my mood, make me shaky; that she would do that, especially during my first week of work. I had to work (as I did just before the job interview) to put her and the bad vibes out of my had, which I suppose is a good thing to practice. I contemplated whether she has always been this overbearing and emotionally abusive-- of course she has: growing up with her was difficult. My parents have genuinely done a lot for me, sacrificed a lot, done a lot of things right, but mom also did me the huge favor of not being someone I wanted to live with or depend on (which is ironic, considering that she continues to believe that I do need her to manage my life). I read about how thirty is the new twenty, in terms of when young people move out of their parents' homes and become independent, and while I am hardly the example of total independence the second I graduated from college (much less high school), the prospect of answering to/living with my parents for longer than necessary fueled a continuous fire under my butt to get my act together, and for that I am grateful.