The Scope of it.

Me: Hello? (now what does she want?)
Mom: (frantically) I think you took the wrong scope.
Me: What the?
Mom: You took the wrong scope?
Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about?
Mom: You know the mouthwash.
Me: You mean the Listerine? (oh right I did take her full bottle of mouthwash by accident….yes that it an accident, she was using mine anyway.)
Mom: I had a full bottle and you had less then half of the Scope left.
Me: You mean the Listerine?
Mom: Whatever!
Me: I guess I did?
Mom: Yeah well anyways…what you doing?
Me: It’s Listerine not Scope!
Mom: Scope, mouthwash, Listerine, whatever! I’m not in the mood to be corrected. Melissa. It doesn’t matter what it’s called you knew what I was talking about.
Me: Actually I didn’t (although I did have an idea after about the second time she told me.)
Mom: Oh? Something, something, something…
Me: I am on my way to work.
Mom: I thought so…
Me: I have to go. I’m almost there!
Mom: OK. I just wanted to let you know about the mouthwash.
Me: OK….bye!

The issue of the mouthwash hasn’t been properly resolved yet. I guess she wants me to buy her a new bottle? Great something else I owe her.

I have some pretty long conversations with my mom. She never calls about anything specifically she just wants to talk. You know that point in the conversation where you’re not really even listening to the person anymore and you start to phase out and maybe plan how to exit the conversation politely? I do that a lot, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. It’s not like I can just hang up on her. I’ve purposely antagonized her just so she will hang up, which is also morally corrupt. I mean I can but it is my mother after all. It’s kind of like “yep, yes, uh huh, oh sorry I have to ummm get ready to go now, I have to go to umm work or I just woke up I’m not ready for conversation yet,” especially when Hev-Lady wants to talk about her every day activities. For instance gardening, the dogs, and her personal issues; I really feel like a councilor some days, perhaps I should start charging her. She certainly spends enough sending me 4+ texts a day and a voicemail.

Since yesterday I have been struggling with the stories I am working on. I can’t seem to get a plot together for Fizzy Lemonade. It’s coming together. But I think I am slightly obsessed to the point I sit there with my notebook at the kitchen table and write out a bunch of nonsensical scribbling about how I can work it out. I have no one to bounce story ideas off of anymore it seems. I get the “this actually goes on in your head look?” I had one friend say I have a very twisty mind and she’d love to see inside it. I wouldn’t recommend it unless she wants to meander around in a sometimes dark, scatterbrained, random place. They’d either come out highly amused or scarred for life.

P.S. Today has been one of those lazy days…