RM update

It's easier for me to deal with RM if I look at his presence as my having a temporary, second job: it's an additional source of income; it's only for a couple more months; every job has its icky parts (like taking cans out of the trash every week); and every job has its annoying coworkers. This job has perks, too: he feeds Gracie when I travel, and occasionally helps fix things. And my management of the situation improves with experience. His does not, but that's a lesson in accepting the limits of other people's willingness and ability to process feedback and improve.

The other night was a goldmine of trying too hard. When someone really obviously tries too hard, it burdens the other person in the interaction with significant awkwardness. It's kind of like asking "how are you?" first thing in the morning (or asking Gracie how she is, how her weekend was)-- you can't possibly mean it, and there's nothing to say, so why are you making me come up with something, even a generic answer? In all my traveling with friends, whether for a weekend or a week or longer, no one ever thinks to ask "how are you?" first thing in the morning.

On Wednesday night, he came in as I was sorting an entire farm share--the people with whom I share mine are away for the week. It was like a magic, bottomless bag of greens and root vegetables. He made some inane comment. I responded, agreed about the massive amount of greens and roots. He exaggeratedly said, "is that right?" and fake-laughed as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Shortly thereafter, I told him to help himself to the greens and roots, given that there were more than I could possible deal with over the next week. He laughed, again, and said, "okay! so you'll know that if you see some missing, it was your roommate!"

WTF? Is that even worth saying, for any reason, other than conversation filler?

The small-talk torture continued. He sat down for dinner.

RM: Are you making dinner or breakfast?
A.: Right now, I'm packing my lunch for tomorrow.
RM: Are you going to have dinner?
A.: I'm about to. I've already had some spaghetti squash as a starter.

He was intrigued. I offered him some. He consumed it as topping on crackers. And pretended to like it. Crackers were actually the foundation of his dinner. To each his own, but as always, I wonder why people bother consuming foods devoid of any nutritional value (my own bias here is that I don't actually like crackers, so I'd have been less surprised if he'd had cookies for dinner). I made, ate my whole-grain tortilla with hummus. He asked me if it was good. Of course it was good. Otherwise I wouldn't have made it. That, again, was an inane question. It's one thing to ask someone with whom you're dining in a restaurant how their food is; it's another to ask the same question when they've prepared the food themselves. It's just weird.

Thankfully, we rarely dine simultaneously. Even more thankfully, less than two months to go.