I ran the water extra today. I’ve been stuck in some nasty negative headspace following a nasty exchange with my father. We don’t often fight, but since he recovered from his bout with cancer, he’s been different, forgetful and a bit strange in his thinking.
Most of the time, we get along just fine, meeting in the middle on our collective sense of humor, which can be filled with non sequitur and silliness. But when we hit a bump and lose the rhythm, things can turn hostile quickly.
I won’t get into the details of the argument, but it was triggered with the reappearance of old family habits, which are manipulative and painful. It left me in a rough state afterward. Because I am working on myself with therapy and exercises like this blog, I’m probably more sensitive because I am in the process of healing.
It was still bugging me as I rinsed off my plate after dinner. I remembered how the dishes were always my responsibility growing up. It was the one chore that anyone ever did on a constant basis. Although I only legitimately protested and didn’t do them one night, they were always done by me until I moved out.
We lived in a joke of a house. When all the other plots were sold, the original owner, a local high school teacher decided he would forego the professional builders and did it himself. With little knowledge of standard measurements, well digging or septic system installation, his dream house was a monster unto itself.
I imagine that he was quite thrilled to be rid of it. Shortly after we moved in, the septic tank quickly and brutally introduced itself. It would rear its head a practically every party my family ever threw. It would also be the reason that my dad would constantly rag me about water usage, because all the dish water would both flood the tank and drain the well. It was absolutely nerve wracking to be so unlucky to have to wash the dishes when he was in the room. He would practically count how many seconds the faucet ran for each rinse.
As a result, I am fastidious about wasting water, and take great efforts to repurpose all the runoff water from brew days and try to be generally water conscious. But after the five days of gut wrenching indigestion and G/I upset, I decided to let the water run over my plate a bit longer than I should have. I regret nothing.