Sunday, March 4, 2012


Some day, perhaps, I shall try to write about the loss of weekends.  Currently, and for the past two and a half years, I have been living with my elderly parents, helping them insofar as I am able.

Consequently, I listen to them every morning and every night.  Why do I say "listen"?  They are very noisy.  When they converse, they shout.  My father is growing deaf.

Moreover, the phone rings frequently.  And, when a family member calls, my mother puts on the "speaker phone" and broadcasts over the entire house.   (It isn't a very large house and the rooms are connected by a system of vents which communicate sounds.)

To make matters worse, I am, by nature, a reader and writer.  Those activities require time free from interruptions.  I can work in a busy coffee shop--the sounds cancel out and become white noise.  It is harder to work in a space where only two people are talking.

Since July 2009, I have been much less free---less free than at any other time in my life.  When I worked, no matter how awful the job, I could say to myself:  Just wait until the weekend.  And, then, on a Saturday  morning, I could stay home and read a book or write something.  And on Sunday, I could continue what I had started on Sunday. I cannot do that now.  There is no regularity, no predictability and interruptions are constant.  There is no weekend to look forward to.  And, again, with the worst job, there was  always some sort of vacation.  Since July of 2009, I have had only one vacation.  During that vacation, I remember sitting on the bed of my room and sighing, feeling relieved at the thought that no one was talking, no one was phoning, there was no noise from the "news" destroying my concentration.  There was, merely, blessed silence and peace.  I could think freely.  That was May of 2011.  Since then I have had no peace and no freedom.........And, on top of all that, yesterday I found out that I was not welcome at the one place where I thought I could escape from the nervousness and anxiety that I feel living with my elderly parents.


  1. Hi Mark.

    What's your contact email address? Would you like to have a chat some time?


    1. Lea, Just to be honest. I am sceptical about chatting with people I've never met face-to-face. But if you write, we, then I'll read what you've written and we can see. (I hate the thought of submitting a person---even a total stranger---to anything like the formal process of applying for a job, but since I know nothing about you, I really have no choice.

  2. I don't want to be unfriendly, but my blog has all sorts of information about me. And, when I clicked your Name, there is nothing about you. So, before I agree to anything, I would like to make the following suggestion. Sit down, and write a brief letter introducing yourself. Tell me enough so that I can decide if I want to chat.

    Do it on a weekend when you have time. Email it to me at And then we can see.

    Also, I'd like to know if you've been reading this blog, or you are a first-time, one time reader....

    Thank you