Inappropriate questions. Singles get used to them. At least, I did. In a misguided attempt to make the world find me likable in order to get set up, I certainly tolerated more than I should have.
I'm finding that I now have to relearn intolerance to certain questions. In my earnestness, I think I have to honestly answer every query, even if I don't want to.
I have a friend that always makes conversation by bombarding me with questions. By the time I've barely stammered a reply to one, another is being lobbed. At some point I'm internally sobbing, "I'll tell you everything I know! Can I have some water and a lawyer?"
She once asked, "So how's Ben sleeping now?"
OK, I'll admit Ben's sleeping at night has been a bit of a wild ride. I've also learned that discussing it with anyone is the kiss of insomnia. If I dare say, "Oh, he's doing much better!" guess who's up and chatting at 3:42 a.m. For two hours.
But I didn't know how to wiggle out of this. I have very little finesse when it comes to these things. I tried the blunt route.
"I'm not saying."
"OH, it's THAT bad?!"
Well, I don't want her to think he's a demon . . .
So I gave more details than I should have.
Guess who was up that night?
"You didn't have to tell her," Han said, bleary-eyed, come morning.
"I don't know how to!" I wailed after a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Just say 'Baruch Hashem!'" my sister said in exasperation later that day. "We're too earnest! We don't have to answer everyone's questions!"
"Oooooh, 'Baruch Hashem' is good. Vague. Non-specific."
This is a problem, from what social media has been telling me: people asking questions, demanding details that isn't their business. Sure, my friend probably thought her question was more caring, but I didn't want to answer. I have that right.
Maybe there's a class on this.
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