Boss Needs to Get a Blog
Dear Judith,
I’m the only employee of a small business owned by a married couple. The man is super nice and asks me about my life outside the office, but most days it’s just me and his second, younger wife, and all she talks about is their vacation home, how expensive her clothes are, and, lately, the blasé, unoriginal wisdom of her new shrink. (At least she’s seeing one, right?) She doesn’t tell me personal information, thank god. Yet the other day she had a therapy session on the phone for some reason, and only ten minutes into it did she remember to get up off her Bergdorf-Goodman-ed butt and shut the door. It didn’t sound like she was about to talk about me, but that’s probably what she wanted me to think. Why am I so much more offended by this than the rest of her usual bullshit?
Leave Me Out of It, Please
Dear Leave,
(which is what you should do),
Because her usual bullshit is about money, but shutting the door on your ears felt like it was about you. In reality it had nothing to do with you–it was about whichever of her myriad issues she was rationalizing to her shrink that day. But insofar as you’re the convenient recipient of her abuse, she was upping the ante because her previous efforts to feel smug at your expense either failed or succeeded. You can’t win, in other words; so why haven’t you quit? Hmmm, a super-nice guy who’s interested in you and a narcissistic sociopath in the way of him…. is that your parents? A previous relationship with a dude who wasn’t over his ex? Besides the natural sting of a slammed door, I suspect it felt like a wall suddenly going up–a wall between you and the woman’s husband that you’d been lulled into believing didn’t exist. No big deal: your attraction might be daughterly and platonic (these aren’t redundant), and an egomaniac who broadcasts her therapy sessions because they’re so fucking fascinating thinks you’re after her lover if you breathe. You chose this dynamic, though–be wary of repeating it.
Happy networking,
Judith
Put Your Foot Down, But First Kick Ass
Dear Judith,
Every year on Mother’s Day I get guilted by both my mother and paternal grandmother into taking them each out separately. This year was especially crazed because I had a baby shower to attend in the afternoon, after which I was totally spent and told my family that next year they have to share. I know I have 364 more days to worry about it, but that’s not enough time to resolve the years of pent-up resentment that have finally surfaced thanks to me. They’re arguing about who’s the selfish one and who’s just respecting the other person’s right to not want to share. Hello? My father is who my grandmother doesn’t want to share–she insists he take her out separately, too–and my mother refuses to share me in retaliation. I don’t want to start all over again from scratch next year. Should I be arguing with them or just put my foot down and keep it there?
Happy (that) Mother’s Day is Over
Dear Happy,
Before you put your foot down, your father needs a kick in the ass–one that pushes him off his breezy perch above this black hole he condones and into the suck of it. Nobody is blameless here: your grandmother is overbearing and your mother ought to speak up for herself, not grab hold of you. But the burden’s on Dad, among other reasons, because he’s in the position to most easily resolve this mess simply by telling his mother no. It’s not your job to absorb the consequences if he won’t, and if you now feel worse about removing yourself from the situation, all the more reason to do so.
Clearing the dishes from my breakfast in bed,
Judith
Pot vs. Ambien
Dear Judith,
I like to smoke dope every night before I go to bed, as it helps me fall asleep instead of stress keeping me awake (normal stresses–I’m a worrier). My girlfriend thinks I’m addicted and wants me to stop. She smokes, too, and she’s not asking me to give it up entirely, just as a sleep aid. But what’s the difference between what I’m doing and taking Ambien?
Thanks,
GF Needs to Chill About My Sleeping Pill
Dear GF Needs to Chill,
You’re girlfriend is right that you’re addicted, but who isn’t an addict these days? Just because the world would be a better place if we all meditated and found happiness within doesn’t mean every crutch will kill you. Your Ambien defense, however, is weak: by smoking a drug that some rogue dealer grew instead of taking a prescribed one, and therefore being less likely to need a second pill in the morning to feel alert again, you’re shirking your duty to support the pharmaceutical industry. You’re also hurting your lungs rather than risking whatever side effects Ambien is known to cause. Use a vaporizer.
Chillin’,
Judith
Depending on how you define “addiction,” you are wrong and the girlfriend is wrong. People do NOT get physically addicted to marijuana. They can stop without any physical withdrawal. Do you know what you can get physically addicted to? Ambien. It is a very unpleasant withdrawal.
I have to say, I hate pot. I hate the way being stoned makes me feel. However, if you gave me a choice between Ambien or pot, I would take the pot. It has been around forever — we know what it does and it’s not that dangerous. Ambien is very new and has been known to have some terribly dangerous side effects.
People have been known to do things while “asleep” on Ambien — things like DRIVING. They have no recollection of it when they finally wake up — sometimes in a hospital. People have gone on strange eating binges, again, with no memory of it. But they wake up to empty fridges. Nothing like this happens with pot.
Maybe, Judith, you meant to be funny or sarcastic, but if you did, it wasn’t clear. You appeared to provide advice that was pretty unsound and poorly researched.
My advice to GF Needs to Chill is to stay away from Ambien. I think pot is a much safer choice.
To be clear, then, the vaporizer I recommend would be one of these http://www.vapeworld.com/
They get delivered in plain brown boxes for a reason.
What does this have to do with women who hate women??
women in these letters are being nasty to other women. and I can’t resist twisting the titles of twenty-year-old self-help classics.