I like ’em old but I don’t like ’em black

Okay. I know that the title sounds a bit politically incorrect but I promise you it is not, so please do not getcher underwear up in a bunch. 30 years or so ago, I walked into the computer room at my job over at That Darn EPA. Two of my loverly co-workers, Jim and Manuel, were in there and as I walked in, I heard Jim say, “I like ’em old but I don’t like ’em black.” Say what?!? I was totally flabbergasted! Until I looked at what they were doing. Which was eating lunch. And, in Manuel’s case, lunch back in those days included I can’t remember how many bananas. Three or thereabouts. So. Nooooooo, they were NOT talking about women! They were talking about bananas!

As you can see, I DO have bananas in my tree. Or, to be totally accurate, The Commander’s tree. I am just a squatter here, after all. It isn’t even the house I grew up in. Jim and Manuel would *not* have liked these bananas.

I had to start out with a bit of humor today because, well, one of these days I will look back on this period of time and laugh (because it *will* end) but today was an exceedingly bad day and about the only title I could think of before I remembered the derned bananas was FML. If you do not know what FML means, ask someone under 30. Hint: the first letter stands for a four-letter word. (I tweeted “FML” earlier today. The GG texted to ask what that meant. Elizilla tweeted back something like “What’s wrong?”.)

I won’t give the specifics about everything that slid downhill today. I couldn’t write about it if I tried. It was a day of big-time second-guessing and constant reassurance about the future (and the present) and button-pushing in both directions and many, many, many repetitive conversations. And a bit of anger that I deeply regret. But… I was repeatedly asked questions that I could not answer and I was asked (I think) to move the sun and moon. I cannot do that. And, oh yeah. I *worked* today too. *I* have a job. I *have* a job. I have a *job*. I love my job and I want to keep having it. Anger. Sorry. Where are all the sisters and brothers I don’t have? How do other black-sheep-type “only” children manage this? Where is the instruction manual?

Tomorrow will be a better day. That is all.

2 Responses to “I like ’em old but I don’t like ’em black”

  1. Margaret Says:

    Dang it-it sounds like a b*tch of a day. People all want answers and more control than we can have. It’s hard when friends ask me questions about what’s going on with my husband. I don’t know either!! No idea what the next stage of treatment will be, how it will work and its consequences. Tomorrow WILL be a better day. Hugs to you, my overwhelmed friend.

  2. GG Says:

    I understood FML. I wantend to know, why FML?


    Under 30 has no monopoly on understanding.