Bask in the Love
Apr. 24th, 2002 11:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinueA 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.
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(no subject)
Date: 2002-04-24 03:05 pm (UTC)Unless I miss my guess, this will all be over in a month. Contrary to what "They" would have you believe, the "Real World" is much less frightening than the educational one. Try smiling. Try laughing. Try singing. Try dancing. It'll help, or I'll eat my hat. At least- I'll buy a hat, and then I'll eat it.
-Chad
(no subject)
Date: 2002-04-24 05:27 pm (UTC)all i can do is tell you that i care deeply about you, and that i hope that i can in some small way help you find your way.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-04-26 02:17 pm (UTC)