Yeah, maybe

In response to T.'s comment: it's a whoever-is-comically-annoying-me-at-the-moment blog, really. Mom (a) is busy getting ready for a trip to Russia and (b) has undertaken a strategy of being on her best behavior over the phone, only to revert to proper form in person... and I'm planning a trip to Boston for a while.

There are certainly parallels; the same elements are behind what makes their behavior amusing. They both ask questions to which they couldn't possibly care about/appreciate the answers, and then don't listen/don't pay attention:

Mom: What are you doing tonight?
A.: Going to a friend's house.
Mom: Where does your friend live?
A.: In Logan Circle, in DC.
Mom: Where's that?
A.: Not far from Dupont Circle and just north of downtown.
Mom: I don't know where that is.
A.: I know, but that's the best I can provide in terms of orientation.
Mom: What time will you be back?
A.: I have no idea.

So, you'd think that someone so concerned with what I'm doing, where and when, would actually read the itineraries I send her, rather than be caught completely off-guard when I call from the airport to update her on my arrival time the same day?

or

Mom: So, how are you?
A.: Good...
Mom: What's good?
A.: Things, in general, are good.
Mom: What, specifically, is good?
A.: I don't know, mom. Nothing new. The same things--work, house, etc.--are still good.
Mom: What's good about them?

Then there's RM. Take this morning.

RM: How are you?
A.: Good. How are you?
RM: Good.

RM: So, what kind of day do you have planned? A busy day? Slow day?
A.: [Shrug].

I really prefer not to think about what I'll do at work until I get there. Is that too much to ask? The bigger issue here is that I have never responded well to this line of questioning, and it's amusing to me that that appears to escape him entirely.

Also, he, too, is always asking for details about what I do, but doesn't really pay attention. You'll recall this convo:

RM: So, what exactly do you do once you get to work?
A.: Varies by the day.
RM: Turn on your computer?
A.: Yes, I do turn on my computer.
RM: Then what?
A.: [Sigh.]
RM: Get your coffee?

And so on.

So why then would he keep asking me, on any given morning, whether I was driving in, when I'd made it clear, each preceding time he asked, that I never, ever drive to work?

I've told a handful of people at the office about the detailed questioning about the course of the work day, and they're all amused/horrified. They appreciate that he doesn't really want to know, and the last thing we want to do is retell it.

Actually, our report will be publicly available starting tomorrow. I'm considering providing it to RM to teach him a lesson.