Hey Expat Wife, Don’t You Mess With My Chi!

Today, after my placenta neck treatment, I had lunch with Michelle. Flo said last week that Michelle wanted to hook up with me, so I wasn’t too surprised when she sent me an iCal invite to meet at my local PS Café, at the Paragon. That’s pretty much roll-out-of-bed territory for me, given that I live five minutes’ walk away, and I’m always up for anything on their menu or amazebobs specials. I don’t care who I go there with. I just love going there.

I have to confess that I was a little nervous because I’ve had some weirdo-mundo flashbacks involving her husband, Will, and I see now that actually something did happen. I knew, though, that I am a master of affect-regulation, so I accepted the invitation, just to have an excuse to go to PS Paragon.

So I was totes relieved when Michelle stopped twizzling the straw in her lime mint soda and said, “EJ, the reason I wanted to see you today is that I want to say that… I’m sorry.”

(What now, now???)

She continued, hesitantly: “I’m in the twelve-step program now, and part of that is saying sorry to people… You probably don’t know this, but I used to talk behind your back. I said some awful things about you – that you’re stupid, ignorant, pretentious, a wannabe… And so I want to apologise to you. It was awful of me to have said those things, and I am truly sorry.”

Being the mahusively magnanimous person that I am, I totes forgave her, saying, “Hey no worries, babes, that’s utterly cool, no worries.”

(Pretentious?? Moi?! Where’d she get that crazy idea from?? The drink has obvioso addled her brain.)

She then proceeded to bore the bejingies out of me by talking about her recovery, and her new job. Apparently, after she dried out, she found herself some employment. So she blabbed and blabbed about her job, and how great it is to feel “useful and relevant in the workforce again” having spent so many years raising her children.

When she talked about her job, a little voice inside me said, “Hey, you used to have a job… You used to be independent…”

But then I noticed that I needed a gel pedi, and that the Givenchy 40% off sale was about to end, and that my Hyatt membership was for renewal. Stuff to do!! I don’t have time for a job, particularly as a stay-at-home mother. The helper wouldn’t be able to cope without me.

So I silenced the annoying little voice, sending it back to that corner of my brain full of things that aren’t true, and then reaised the real reason that Michelle had wanted to see me: she has always been jealous of me, and she thought that by getting a job, she could rub it in my face and thereby thusly have one up on me. Ha! I don’t think so, sweetie!!

We finished our lunch, and as we said goodbye, Michelle went all doe-eyed. She gave me a hug (I’m not a fan of hugging in hot climates, let’s just stick to air-kissing please), saying, “Honestly, EJ, I am so very sorry. If you ever need someone to talk to, give me a call and we’ll go for a tea. Just reach out. Any time.”

I concealed my utter bewilderment – why would I need someone to talk to?! I’m not the recovering alcoholic with a philandering husband! – and said goodbye as sweetly as possible, despite her pathetic, unnecessary compassion assault.

When I got down to Givenchy to try on the dress I’ve been admiring for ages (only $2,400 now, with the 40% off!), I reflected that Michelle had really done a number on my chi. Grrrrrrr. She staged this whole clean-up and get a job thing just to piss me off! I stood in front of the mirror in the dress. I looked stunning. Yes, I thought, maybe I will reach out to her for a cup of tea and a chat-ski. I could tell her all about the many times that her husband has come on to me. That would burst her bubble. She’ll go flying back to the booze. You messed with the wrong chick, honey.

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2 thoughts on “Hey Expat Wife, Don’t You Mess With My Chi!

  1. Pingback: When an Expat Wife Gets a Job | Diary of an Expat Somebody

  2. Pingback: Jobs R Sexy & I Should Get One | Diary of an Expat Somebody

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