I get tired.
Tired of people saying how busy they are. Tired of teenagers claiming they didn't have time to do this or that. Or adults with no kids, or parents with competent partners, claiming they are strapped for time.
In essence, I am tired of people claiming to be tired. It generates a disdain in my heart that would be indecorous to elucidate.
Because I can trump your claim. I can beat your hand by showing only half my cards. I am loathe to do so, because it is so pitiful, and so pitifully personal. So most of the time the lips remain zipped and ignore the bile that rises in my gorge.
But every once in a while, I crack. I was at a meeting of people involved in my son's scout troop. Someone had the nerve to forgive another parent for their lack of involvement, citing their busy schedule. Remaining calm, I heard myself say: "I work 80 hours a week. Night and day. Two jobs. I do all the house work, all the yard work, all the paper work. My wife is too sick to even cook for herself. I do all the cooking. I do all the parenting. Not to mention getting my wife to the doctor, which is sometimes as far away as San Francisco, and picking up all her meds. Anyone and everyone with less to do than that can shove it."
It was not well received. But neither was it met with disdain. The worst part is people thinking that I'm looking for pity. I'm not. I just want people to appreciate the time on their hands. Stop pretending you're busy. You have plenty of time.