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Apr. 24th, 2002
Bask in the Love
Apr. 24th, 2002 11:53 amA few days ago, The Parents and I got into a conversation about stress. It went a little bit like this:
The Parents: How are you?
Romie: Fucking stressed as hell. I hate everyone in the entire world except maybe Chad, and that might just be because I don't see him very often.
The Parents: You don't see us very often, either.
Romie: Dude! Stop it! Stressed out!
The Parents: Don't be silly. We're not a source of stress at all.
Romie: Poppycock, my delusional lumplings.
The Parents: (deeply wounded) I think we do pretty well. . . I mean, it's not like we call you every day and say "hey! do you have a job yet?"
Romie: Of course not; that would be redundant. But you have the capability of calling every day and saying, "hey, do you have a job yet," besides which I didn't say you were doing anything wrong. You're just a source of stress, is all.
The Parents: Your generation defines stress strangely.
Romie: How so?
The Parents: Well, when we were kids, we had to hide under our desks in case someone dropped the bomb.
Romie: Yeah, and your generation wound up doing a lot of drugs.
The Parents: (laughter)
Romie: Seriously, I think that y'all had it easier. I mean, if I genuinely believed that the world would end tomorrow, do you know how much pressure that would take off my shoulders? God, it'd be wonderful. Aside from which, war is a group stressor -- it's something you all have in common, and it fosters a feeling of camaraderie -- "at least we'll all go together." Stress these days is much more personal -- we're told from day one that we're going to fail, and that it's going to be our fault when we do. My generation has had to live much faster than yours -- I was getting lectures in middle school about the need to start a retirement account. AIDS has been an epidemic as long as I have been alive. There has always been a hole in the ozone layer. Most of my peers were latchkey kids. We're told that with a four year college degree, we'll be lucky to be fry cooks. We've never believed that we could change the world if we wanted to.
The Parents: How much sleep have you been getting?
Romie: None that's restful.
The Parents: It's just that you get ranty when you aren't sleeping.
Romie: Fuck you.
The Parents: So have you decided on a career goal yet?
Romie: I want to save the world, or make sure that someone else does. You know that. It's just difficult, because I can't go through the church -- too fragmented. And there's no way I could go through politics when my major platform is "this system is obsolete and ought to be overhauled."
Mom: We're sorry that you're stressed out, honey.
Dad: Remember to get that tire checked out, or else you'll probably die.
The Parents: How are you?
Romie: Fucking stressed as hell. I hate everyone in the entire world except maybe Chad, and that might just be because I don't see him very often.
The Parents: You don't see us very often, either.
Romie: Dude! Stop it! Stressed out!
The Parents: Don't be silly. We're not a source of stress at all.
Romie: Poppycock, my delusional lumplings.
The Parents: (deeply wounded) I think we do pretty well. . . I mean, it's not like we call you every day and say "hey! do you have a job yet?"
Romie: Of course not; that would be redundant. But you have the capability of calling every day and saying, "hey, do you have a job yet," besides which I didn't say you were doing anything wrong. You're just a source of stress, is all.
The Parents: Your generation defines stress strangely.
Romie: How so?
The Parents: Well, when we were kids, we had to hide under our desks in case someone dropped the bomb.
Romie: Yeah, and your generation wound up doing a lot of drugs.
The Parents: (laughter)
Romie: Seriously, I think that y'all had it easier. I mean, if I genuinely believed that the world would end tomorrow, do you know how much pressure that would take off my shoulders? God, it'd be wonderful. Aside from which, war is a group stressor -- it's something you all have in common, and it fosters a feeling of camaraderie -- "at least we'll all go together." Stress these days is much more personal -- we're told from day one that we're going to fail, and that it's going to be our fault when we do. My generation has had to live much faster than yours -- I was getting lectures in middle school about the need to start a retirement account. AIDS has been an epidemic as long as I have been alive. There has always been a hole in the ozone layer. Most of my peers were latchkey kids. We're told that with a four year college degree, we'll be lucky to be fry cooks. We've never believed that we could change the world if we wanted to.
The Parents: How much sleep have you been getting?
Romie: None that's restful.
The Parents: It's just that you get ranty when you aren't sleeping.
Romie: Fuck you.
The Parents: So have you decided on a career goal yet?
Romie: I want to save the world, or make sure that someone else does. You know that. It's just difficult, because I can't go through the church -- too fragmented. And there's no way I could go through politics when my major platform is "this system is obsolete and ought to be overhauled."
Mom: We're sorry that you're stressed out, honey.
Dad: Remember to get that tire checked out, or else you'll probably die.