Fallout

The problem with a diagnosis is that symptoms can have a wide range of causes. I've been quite "irritable" the past couple of days.

It could be a side effect of the Ritalin.

It could be a side effect of life.

On the weekend, my ex-wife called and asked me to bring over some groceries. Actually, let's back up a step.

Her van broke down at the start of last week. I drove her to work several days of the week, and was heartened that she found other ways home at least a couple of those days, meaning that she was not entirely depending on me. I asked her, towards the end of the week, how long until her van was done, and that's when I learned that the repair cost was more than she had, or likely will have any time soon. A decision was made on my part, and I put plates on the old car sitting in my driveway awaiting my eldest son's 15th birthday. Saturday I loaned her that car.

Sunday afternoon she called and said that she had lost the car key, and needed me to run to the store and get her some groceries to make supper with.

That alone was a "huh?" moment, and the grocery list didn't help much - pesto, whipping cream, an onion, beef boullion. You'll note the lack of meat, eggs, milk, bread, or other more basic items, because she had already gone grocery shopping. So, in other words, despite having the basics of meal-making, she wanted me to go out, pick up some minor meal-enhancers, and drive over to her place with them.

I pointed out that I was busy working, something necessary to me, but in the end agreed to her request. That is when the grouchiness became apparent.

I finished up work, and made arrangements with the prof for an evening together. She questioned the reasonableness of the trip I was about to make, and I can't blame her.

So it was off to Safeway, where I picked out the items, and suffered through the late November Christmas music for the second time that day... Wait! I forgot to mention I had already been out grocery shopping earlier for myself. In comparison, my own trip included light reparte with the cashier about my dislike of hearing the Christmas music. On this forced trip I lightly snapped at the clerk about the same thing, not causing a scene, but she was visibly taken aback, perhaps unable to decide what to say. Really, the cause of my outing was on my mind, but I didn't share that.

As I drove the last few blocks I tried to double-check my position - did this fall under the category of ensuring my kids ate? No, I don't think so. Did this fall under the category of something I might ask a friend to do? No, I don't think so. Loan someone a car, and then bring them groceries the day afterward because they lost my key? I had difficulty imagining any of my friends making that sort of request of me.

By the time I got to my ex-wife's apartment, I was fuming and ready with a brief outline of my complaint. When I walked in the door, she was nowhere to be found, but P, her ex-boyfriend that she had lived with for two years, was sitting on the couch.

"Hello," we said to each other.

"Why didn't she just send you?" I said.

When she finally appeared, she frantically started mouthing "I don't know why he's here, I didn't know he was coming" while I tried to tell her that enough was enough - it was ridiculous to make me run errands like this. As if I were upset about her company, and not her request.

"What am I going to do if I can't find the key," she said.

I burst. "You're going to have to find it. I had a hard enough time finding one key for you in the first place. The prof is pissed at me, and rightly so, with me delaying her arrival at my place so that I can bring you this crap. You could have sent P. You could have done without it."

"The boys and I were going to surprise you with an invitation to supper. You didn't mention that you had plans with the prof," she replied.

Later I asked the boys, and they said that that was the first they'd heard of such an intention. I had already suspected that the "surprise invitation" was a deflection and not a fact. Standard operating procedure for her has always been to make shit up to cover her ass.

I'm pretty sure that you don't ask your friend to go pick up 5 things from the grocery store, bring them over, and then go, "Surprise! You can stay for supper!"

The next day she tried to pry an admission out of me that I was unreasonable in my outburst, that somehow I was wrong in all this. I was having none of it. I was busy with work, grouchy to begin with, and hearing how they ended up just ordering pizza at P's request was just icing on the cake of fury. I told her I was not in any mood to discuss it, and I wasn't.

She said that she hoped that the fact that the prof was now my girlfriend wasn't going to wreck the wonderful relationship we had had since we had separated. I told her that I didn't think so, but again, I was too busy to discuss the matter.

She pried at me in many ways, but in the end I just gave her as little opportunity as I could. I wished I could formulate a killer argument, one that she would finally understand, but came up dry. Fortunately she acquiesced about continuing the conversation, after I agreed (!) to buy her a block heater extension cord for the car, and I went about my day.

I was, nonetheless, still very irritable right up until bedtime, no matter what I did.

It could be a side effect of the Ritalin. It could be a side effect of life.