Apparently, if anything goes wrong or not according to plan, it's my fault. The computer goes on the blink and it's my fault. Why? Because I'm the one who was using it and therefore I must have done something to cause it to stop working. Why? Because computers just don't stop working or wear out or accumulate cat hair that fries their inner workings. This particular computer was 5 years old and it turned out that it wasn't the computer, but the monitor. I usually leave the monitor on even if I have the computer in sleep mode so I suppose in a way, it really was my fault. I bought a new monitor and now when I'm done using my computer, I turn off the monitor.
Last night was another example of how everything is always my fault. It was late and I had a long day at work. I taught two classes and gave a piano lesson. It was well after 9pm when I arrived at home. I was cold and coming down with something so a quick check of my e-mail and my work site and I headed to bed to read until my husband came home from work. By 10:30, I was falling asleep and so I didn't fight it.
At 11:30 pm something woke me. I was confused and dazed coming out of a sound sleep. There was that noise again, in the distance. What was it? Oh, the doorbell! Who rings the doorbell at this time of night? Burglars? Nah...someone stranded? Maybe. I try to find some clothes to put on and stumble done the stairs. Now the ringing has stopped and there is pounding on the door.
"Coming," I mumbled. I can see my husband standing outside on the top step. My sleepy brain not comprehending. I quickly open the door.
"Jesus Christ, woman!" he barked, "Don't you ever answer your phone? My truck won't start and I locked my keys inside and you need to take me back to work so I can jump it."
Now, why am I getting my head bit off? Why is this dilemna my fault?
We get in my car and head off toward the factory.
"Do you have the fob for my truck?"
"No."
"Jesus, then what's the point of going?"
"I have a key." I sigh. We drive in silence across town. Just the sound of my coughing breaking the quietness.
We pulled in and got his truck started and head back home. I didn't get a thank you or I'm sorry I yelled at you. But then, why would I? It's always my fault.
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