Hill of Beans

I had a nice long talk with my sponsor this morning.  He talks, mostly.  It's not unpleasant at all, even though I'm talking to someone who is very clearly, most definitely, no-doubt-about-it dying. He has some lovely spiritual flights of fancy.  From time to time he veers into topics that have been a source of irritation between us in the past, but I simply don't take the bait.  The guy is terminal - I'm not going to argue politics with him.  He has earned the right to talk about whatever he wants to talk about and it makes no sense to me to ruin this time over things that don't amount to a hill of beans.

Then I relapsed with my family.   I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.  I have been trying to call them less and less because I don't think they really enjoy talking to me all that much.  They never call me, that's for sure.  I almost feel like I'm asking out a girl in high school who has told me very clearly, most definitely, no-doubt-about-it that she hates my guts.  While it is my prerogative to keep calling I can hardly express shock and outrage or profess hurt feelings if the call doesn't go well.

The same topics keep coming up, the same stories are shared, the same intractable positions are staked out.  They continue to do things that I don't agree with and they continue to do them without asking me.  I can only assume that they aren't interested in my opinion on these matters based on the fact that they do them all by themselves.  OK, then.  Today, however, I felt like explaining why the perfectly normal things they're doing without asking me aren't in their best interest, like having that ridiculous auction that brought in approximately 3000% more money than I thought they would get if the auction went miraculously well.

Funny, the relationships we have.