Wednesday 29 February 2012

Jane? You still doing that advice column?

I've got myself into a delicate situtuation and I need advice. Our baby girl was born in October, and whilst I was recuperating from being cut in half for the blessed event, I ended up chatting to the woman in the bed across from me. She also had a baby girl, on the same day, via the same method, so we had lots of notes to compare.


She didn't appear to have many visitors, and was clearly pretty baffled by tending to a newborn's needs (42, first child, no partner on the scene - it's amazing what people will tell you when they're doped to the gills on opiates).

She told me she was from Zimbabwe and had been in Scotland for about ten years. Turned out we only lived a few streets away. When it was time for my discharge from hospital, we politely exchanged numbers. I never really expected to hear from her again which was fine. It was just one of those things, you know?

Except, it wasn't one of those things. She texted me a couple of weeks later and it seemed to me she'd hit the brick wall of postnatal depression pretty hard. I offered to run down to the shops for basic provisions, and offered a shoulder to cry on. 

You probably see where this is going. I tried to rationalise the increasing phone calls, requests for baby advice, money, phone calls to the bank on her behalf, and free installation of wood flooring in her living room (J is a carpenter).  (He said hell no, btw).  I said things to myself like "She's just isolated; she needs a friend, she's out of her depth." But I knew that it was bullshit. 

Some people are not even slightly reluctant to ask for favours. Some people don't bat an eye over taking your time and resources to solve their own problems. 

These people are called users. 

I've worked at putting distance between us. I didn't respond to her texts for threeish weeks, and truthfully, I was busy anyway. We were getting ready to travel to Ireland, and there a bazillion errands to run, not to mention the usual daily grind raising a young family. I was legitimately busy. 

Yesterday, I had to take the baby to the doctor for some cream - she's had this persistent nappy rash for a couple of weeks. I bumped into her - she'd taken her baby in to get weighed. O HAI I'M REPREZZED AN UR MAKIN ME FEEL AWKWARD. 

Since I have no balls, I fell all over myself apologising for being out of touch. She asked if I fancied a coffee. What I SHOULD have said was, "Actually, I have a few things to do this afternoon, but thanks. Take care, kthxbai." What I ACTUALLY said was, "Er, sure!" and mentally beating myself repeatedly in the face with my rage-filled fists. 

But we didn't go for coffee! She had to go to the Citizen's Advice Bureau for help with some boring government form or another, and suddenly, there I was, sitting depressing fluorescent lighting, discussing National Insurance contributions on behalf of my good friend. 

I know this isn't the most riveting reading, but I'm trying to set the scene. I had to go to the bank to pay some money into our account so it wouldn't go overdrawn, the bank was closing soon, I needed to pick up some thank you cards, I had soda bread to bake to go with dinner, the baby was fussing wanting to be fed and OMGWTF I DON'T HAVE THE TIME OR INCLINATION FOR THIS.

After that drag-fest, I was starving so decided to pop into McDonald's - not something I do that often but it works in a pinch. Taggy McTagalong came too. Get this: whilst on the queue waiting to order, she says "Oh, can you buy me a Big Mac Meal?" and saunters off to a table. 

I didn't have much of a choice. Let me rephrase that: if you are me, and often find yourself disproportionately concerned with being polite, even if no one else seems to be, you don't have much of a choice. So I bought her the fucking Big Mac, bolted my own meal down, made my goodbyes and left. 

When J got home from work last night, I recited my tale of woe, and he got pretty annoyed on my behalf. He says there's nothing wrong with making enough polite excuses until someone gets the hint, if an out and out snub isn't your thing. 

I hate this kind of crap. Just this minute I got a text from her. When the fuck will I learn?!

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