girls and their projects

Just got off the phone with a friend, was telling her a (short) anecdote when she interrupted to say that she had to go, had to get going, because she has a project, you see, and every moment is dedicated to that project, fully and completely (I guess), because it is a project, a very important project. A project! And in the time it took for her to say that, I could have finished my story.

Girls and their projects.

There is an apocryphal story about how the German GSG 9 are trained to shoot the women terrorists first. This is because the ladies are more committed, more hardcore and therefore more dangerous.

Guys always know how to surrender.

We've seen *that look* and we know what it means. It says: I have to do this thing and oh my god don't you understand how important this thing is, this thing I have burning like an electric cross at the front of my brain right now, right now, and oh my god I have to do it, I have to do it right now, and it has to be done right, so I will be sanctified. And also: you are expendable!

Ah, the breathlessness, the hair-pulling, the double-glazed focus.

And it can apply to little projects, too. Meaningless projects. Because you can micromanage anything. I once had C almost hyperventilating when she thought I wasn't going to return the grocery cart to its little shed in the parking lot. Trouble was, I hadn't finished unloading the groceries yet. And she was sitting in the front passenger seat saying, You're going to put that cart back, right? You're going to put it back. You're going to put it back, right? Please tell me you're going to put it back. At which point I sent the cart -- very slow and straight -- coasting about thirty yards to the collection shed. And while I laughed, I looked back to see C covering her eyes with her hands. Yes, it was all very embarrassing. I hope Loblaws still invites us to the Peach Cream Social.

And yes, I am a monster.


  1. Stop making me laugh at myself--I am in the middle of a very important project, figuring out the car seat adapter for the stroller, and I need to google the instructions.

  2. The Peach Cream social was the highlight of my tween years. Twas the only time of the year Mother would let us put curls in our hair and wear frilly socks and patent leather shoes.

  3. As you may have heard I used to work at a grocery store. And the further out you left your cart (across the street, in a tree) the more time I had to sneak cigarettes and phone calls while retreaving it. Dont be guilted into returning the cart.

  4. ah heee hee! great fun! you two are well suited for each other! rainer loves to just ride the cart around all the slopey parts of the parkinglot embarassing the daughters...
    ah i would write more, but have to get back to my project.

    as my word verification says: "dinghho!" ...


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