You know babe, I’m a pretty handy gal. Our partnership was always one of reading each others minds and being able to work side by side on any project without hardly a word between us. We were good work partners, and lucky for us, we thoroughly enjoyed each others company. I miss that. I miss having a partner near me that knew his work, had clear concise instructions when I needed to do something, or understood me when I asked you to do something.
Working with Devon, as you remember, is a lesson in patience. Something I have very little of. He mumbles. He doesn’t answer a question directly, without telling you 900 things that don’t relate, and never really answers the question. When you ask him to do something there has to be a discussion as to why, the purpose…everything is like pulling teeth. It makes it hard to get anything done, and half the time I throw my hands up in frustration because I just can’t take it anymore. Which means I’m not getting a damn thing done.
I asked if he had the water hose, and 15 minutes later he’s still yammering on about “technically” the goats have a water hose, and he has a water hose, and maybe the goat one would fit, but he’s not sure, it’s got a quick connect thing, and maybe if he tried it, but then again, he could bring both. MY GOD MY GOD MY GOD just answer the question, or bring me the hose, just quit yammering on and on and on with the nonsense.
The UPS man came and brought my new chainsaw. He had a smaller package that had one of the shirts I bought Devon in it. I bought him some nice long sleeved fishing shirts to work in so he didn’t have to wear sunscreen. I gave it to him when it was delivered and said “This package is for you”.
He hovered near the gate while I was putting the chainsaw together and as I walked outside he had the shirt and wanted to know “are you sure this is mine?”. Like I wasn’t sure. There was no “thanks” there, just the stupid questions, like I didn’t know if it was his or not. He made sure to hold it up so I could see it. Because, apparently, I didn’t know what I ordered or something.
My nerves are frayed this week. I’m angry. Angry to be shouldering everything, angry that you left without saying goodbye, angry to be with a work partner who doesn’t like partnerships and questions everything, yet knows nothing. I’m exhausted. I’m tired. And yet, I’ve not done anything to deserve either adjective.
Yes, yes, Devon is receiving the brunt of my anger. This isn’t new, this questioning and opinionated stubbornness. My anger in retaliation to his opinionated stubbornness hasn’t changed though. It’s been his life long. I’ve never understood why he must give vague answers and too much information that doesn’t relate to the problem, but it’s old. It’s tiresome. I can’t work this way.
Why did you leave me here all alone to deal with the farm, the animals, the work, raising Devon? I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I’m drowning.