Veggies with Resentments on the Side

Pizza Tuesday was anticlimactic ... sorta.

Pizzas were delivered at 10:30. Activity Director had not yet arrived, so The Seer and a resident I’ll call “The Little Helpful Lady” because she’s always stepping in to help out whenever and wherever, those two took over, called out what type of pizza it was -- cheese or pepperoni, etc., and walked it over to whomever wanted it.

But then there was this one old guy on a cane, who I think has Parkinson’s because he always shakes. He approached the table and began opening boxes. The ladies kept telling him “This stack is all pepperoni” yet he tightened his jaws in defiance, kept opening boxes and, even though the other food products were in labeled containers, he opened them as well -- all the while shaking to where I was sure product was going to hit the floor.

He managed though. Managed enough to hobble away with two pizzas and a grocery bag, that he brought in preparation, full of breads and containers of chicken.

No good deed goes unpunished because, Activity Director arrived at 11:00, saw that the two residents had done her job for her and, instead of saying “Thank you” announced, “No one is to touch the pizzas until I arrive”.

So there’s that.

Before heading down to the Community Room, having decided upon waking this morning that I’d stick around for the Father’s Day Potluck, I’d made a run to the deli and picked up a veggie tray. So I was in the Community Room working on my needlepoint project, catching up with folks I’d not chatted with for a while, until the 1:00 potluck, which was three ladies putting everything together in the kitchen -- Helpful Lady, The Baker and another always helpful lady I’ll call Wants Braids, because she keeps telling me she does.

At any rate, instead of assisting in her event, Activity Director was sitting in the corner working on her computer.

This caused some whispered to me resentment.

My response was, “I understand how you feel, but sometimes you have to resist the urge to help and let people succeed or fail on their own”.

In other words, step out of the kitchen and stop being Activity Director’s slave.

People treat you how you let them.

THEN there was some whispered to me resentments, from three different individuals, about my neighbor President of the Resident Activity Committee -- her not being present to help at this event, other events, not being present with the keys to unlock cupboards containing what was needed for this event, displaying a hoity toity “plantation master” manner (neighbor is Black) -- giving orders, dictating to others instead of doing herself, causing the Committee to be in turmoil with the secretary of the Resident Activity Committee having announced, “I can’t work with her” and resigning, others on the verge of quitting.

In spite of all the underlining resentments, I enjoyed myself.

There was plenty to eat – sandwiches, salads, fruit, cupcakes.

Having at long last learned my lesson that I just can no longer eat like a normal human being without setting off an angry gut episode, I wasn’t even tempted to eat anything other than the veggies I myself brought.

Even coated them with my own DIY vinaigrette.

We had three fathers in attendance, and Apache -- who is not a father to a human child, that he knows of, but is father to three cats. I announced that I considered myself qualifying as a father because I’d raised my girls on my own.

So I had a good time. The Baker did not.

The frustration she felt at working so hard in the kitchen, going back/forth to her unit to get items she could not get to in the kitchen because the cupboards were locked and neighbor President of the Resident Activity Committee has the key and neighbor was not in attendance -- that frustration turned to anger. She got all red in the face, stood up and announced to everyone present that she was fed up with “working hard to see that everyone has a good time” while neighbor “President of the Activity Committee doesn’t do anything”.

Then, almost in tears, she walked out.

Don’t bother to tell me to stay out of it, because I want to stay out of it, but Infinite Spirit is directing me otherwise and, when spirit tells me to do something, it nags and won’t let me rest until I do it. Consequently, I’ll put in a call in a little while to see if The Baker is okay and to ask if she wants me to intercede in some way with neighbor President of the Resident Activity Committee.

I'm hoping she says thanks, but no ... in which case, Infinite Spirit will let me rest because it's not my failing that I did as directed but she declined.