I still struggle with idealism. I should be over it by now. However, I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting things to be fair. I’ll always get pissed when they’re not. I’ve learned to keep it to myself more as a middle ager. I don’t whine like my sister just got a stiffer soda pour than me. But I still keep track. I still yearn for analytics on my household contribution compared to my wife. I still imagine saying, “Over the last year, I’ve done 62.42% of the dishes, so therefore, I have a right to call you out for not wiping down the stove.” I know enough to step back from that in my old age, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking like that.
My sister asked when the NCAA basketball game was tomorrow in a family text chain, right after I’d texted that the family bracket competition all comes down to the big game tomorrow night. My quick response was, “When I say, ‘it all comes down to tomorrow’, that’s an indicator of when the game is.” Why must my instinct be asshole? Now I know to text niceties after and apologize for being a smart ass, but what the fuck?
I have this expectation of people that’s unfair. I think they should do as much as me and not make mistakes. Even though I make mistakes all the time and hold myself to almost no expectations.
The truth is no cure for reality. But all I know is facts and fairness as I see it. I wish I knew how to make people see it my way.
The Family Record 