you say you don't think I'm doing the right thing...

Wedding planning is exhausting...especially when it's my sister's wedding that's being planned. Today she and Mom and I visited the bakery, the florist and the party rental place, and at the end of the day I didn't have any more of an idea what she has in mind than I did when we started out. I think she has a lot of it worked out in her head, and my mom has a bunch of lists going. As for me, though, I couldn't feel more disconnected.

It's not only that my sister and I have completely different taste, or that trying to communicate with her is as exhausting and futile as watching a NASCAR race on TV. This wedding stuff is just completely foreign to me, and I don't feel like I'm helping at all.

This evening as my mom and I discussed plans for the reception (which will be at my parents' church), I said I couldn't picture the room or get a feel for the layout of the tables. This was a perfect opening for one of my dad's snide comments:

"Well, there are a lot of people in that church who probably don't remember what you look like, either!"

I try to let things like this slide off my back, but they've been wearing me down lately and this time I took the bait. I declared that I don't want to attend their church, and this immediately led to a debate.

"Just because the pastor made one comment..." Mom began, referring to some unsolicited advice to get rid of my cats, find a husband and start having "real" babies. There's more to it than that, and I began to explain some of my other reasons.

"That's not the point," Mom persisted. "If you really wanted to go to church, you'd go somewhere." I eventually realized what was happening and wondered how the conversation had taken this turn. Weren't we supposed to be talking about my sister?

Ugh. Like I said, they've been wearing me down. Yesterday it was my dad saying "Well, if you were ever here..."

And last week while I was talking to my sister, he piped in with "Well get a job, then." I told him I plan to, and he asked when.

"When I do," I replied. He left it at that, but by then the conversation with my sister had been derailed, as her attention span is too short to withstand such interruptions.

It's like when I decided to move in with my parents, I willingly stepped into a pit of quicksand. And the longer I stay, the harder it is to get out. I know I'm not really stuck--I can leave whenever I want. But my parents have a special way of leaving me feeling paralyzed and hopeless.

Lately it's gotten harder to fight off that feeling, and I find myself getting so neurotic and insecure that I'd rather find some sort of escape than work on looking for a job. Thus I can often be found napping or shopping when I should be writing cover letters and mailing resumes.

Then I start getting frustrated with myself, and the cycle perpetuates itself. I know it's not my parents' fault, and I also need to stop being so hard on myself. I just feel so stunted and overwhelmed lately that I don't know what to do next.

I have made some progress. My resume is done, and I bought a suit to wear to interviews. I have a running list of all the shelters, rescue groups and pet boarding facilities I can find in Oklahoma. Now I just need to start knocking on doors, proverbially speaking.

Who cares if some people see me as a Deadbeat Heathen Spinster Cat Lady? Somewhere, someone could be looking for a person just like me to wrangle their cats...or their people...or their piles of paperwork...

Anyway, this song says it all better than I can: