Too much, too soon

I assume too much and, based on my assumptions, proceed to love too much. Then, when I get hurt, I take it out on whomever I presume to be at fault.

Freddy and I work together on several projects at the hospital. I assumed that because he shares with me events that involve these projects, he understood the rules of teamwork: coordination and sharing of information on a real-time basis.

I was, of course, mistaken.

On hindsight, all the information Freddy shared with me were updates on events that highlighted his own participation. You know, the important stuff. Recently, I discovered that things occurred in a certain project that we were both overseeing, events that Freddy experienced first hand but never shared with me. I found out the same time the members of the team did: during a meeting wherein Freddy gave updates.

I was hurt. I expected to be treated differently from the members because I assumed that Freddy regarded me as an equal, a partner, a special someone. I confronted him after the meeting, asking why I wasn't informed well beforehand. His argument was that it was just a small matter and he expected the "glitch" in the project to be resolved.

Of course, it was not.

I pointed out to him that I was doing the groundwork, that it wasn't like he was at the hospital all the time to capture any golden opportunity to sell whatever it was that needed selling. It took all I had to keep from saying to his face that I did the dirty work so he could reap all the glory, and that I deserved better treatment.

His argument: he didn't know that he had to "report every little detail" to me.

I had to clarify that it was coordination and info sharing that I wanted, and that I was not demanding that he "report" to me.

Why are guys so obtuse?

When we exited the room, he acted as if nothing happened and joked with everybody around. I was so pissed, I left him there without saying goodbye or reminding of that afternoon's meeting.

Before people came in for that meeting, I gave it another try.

Me: Look. I just have to get this out of the way. The reason why I was so pissed this morning was because of two reasons: one, I'm a control freak and have to know everything; two, I was working on the assumption that you and I are a team.

Freddy: We are a team!

Me: No, wait. We never really talked about how we were going to work together. There are two ways of going about this. We can work as a team and coordinate closely, or I could just hand off the project to you.

Freddy: I just supposed that the problem was too unimportant. And I was hoping that the guys would resolve the problem on their own. I didn't--

Me: No, but that's just the point. No information is too small to share with me.

Freddy: But I do inform you of things. After every Board meeting, I tell you what transpired, right?

Me: Yes, you do! But why didn't you tell me about this glitch in the ___ Office? I was monitoring the project; I should have known about this glitch when you got to know about it, not along with the members of the sub-committee, weeks after!

Freddy: (stiffly) I apologize. I didn't know that.

Me: So now, the question: which works for you?

Freddy: Well, if you think that that's the best thing to do, then thats' the best thing to do.

Me: No, the question is simple. What do you think works best for you? What do you think will work best given the hospital's culture? Don't think about what I think is best! I can't impose my own values on you.

Freddy: I don't understand.

At that moment, the others started arriving so I said we'd talk about it later, thinking that Freddy'd stay till later. Of course, he didn't; he left at 3 p.m. for another meeting. Which was funny because all along, when the meeting was set, we agreed that it would be an entire afternoon's work.

I felt really bad about it because I went out of my way to buy his favorite pancit (noodles) and diet soda. I went out at noon, braved the midday sun, and bought food when you would never, never see me doing anything as menial as that. And he leaves just like that, without even partaking of the meal. If he wanted to hurt me, he did. Big time.

Gripe, gripe, gripe.

I deserve it. All of it. Freddy is not an extension of me. I cannot demand and expect that he treat me as his alter ego. I am in no position to demand more than what he gives me. Obviously, he still has a lot to learn about communication and teamwork.

Overall, I assumed too much and I demanded too much, too soon.

Expecting expectations

A friend asked lately how my "adventures" were coming along. I didn't know how to answer.

Those "adventures" had ended. I wrote finis to that in TIS2005. It's a whole new ballgame this time.

MC came to see me at work yesterday to share the news with me: she's three months on the family way. Her third pregnancy, there's some 10 years between the last one and this. I bewailed the fact that everyone seems to be having babies, except me. And that led to the discussion about a "sperm donor."

Turns out she and her husband have a friend who had said he'd be willing to impregnate a woman on demand. An officer and a gentleman, this guy has been separated de facto from his spouse for the last seven years. He has several children, one with his legal wife and I don’t know how many with another woman -- or other women.

Interesting.

I now have two candidates for the father of my child: MC’s friend and my gym instructor.

GS, the gym instructor. Ah, now that is a beautiful specimen of a man. In his early 30s, this guy is dark and handsome, with such a winning smile. He has exhibited the required minimum level of intelligence and a character strong enough to make it in the world. Add to that a level of sensitivity higher than most Filipino men.

He is married to S who is, perhaps, 15 years older than he. They own and run the gym I go to. GS is S’s second husband, the first marriage having ended in annulment. Grounds: irreconcilable differences or, in other words, domestic violence. Now, S being in her late 40s, can no longer bear GS a child, which fact, I think, is not significant to S, having had at least three children during her first marriage.

I started at that gym last August, attending the aero classes. Three months later, I still have my excess 30 pounds to lose and have not been able to keep up with the steps. No matter how simple the moves were, I remained kinesthetically challenged. When the new year rolled in, I made a determined decision to give up the fantasy of ever learning to move gracefully and, consequently, the aero classes. Instead, I signed up for resistance and weight training.

Enter GS.

Normally, I don’t go for younger men. They’re such babies. But GS started to exhibit the behavior of a man who finds me attractive: the shy smile, the furtive eyes, the flushed cheeks, and all those little things that make my eyes narrow and my eyebrows curve up to the ceiling. Much like Freddy’s behavior during the early part of our, uhm, courtship? (It has been a courtship, come to think of it. Now, we’ve settled into a more comfortable position vis-à-vis each other.)

GS is, however, more pro-active than Freddy. Whereas Freddy wouldn’t even touch me, literally, with a 10-foot pole, GS was always ready to hand me things, like dumbbells and handles and stuff, although he does take care not to touch my hands more than was necessary.

During the first session with him, he taught me this abs exercise where I lie flat on my back while he stands just above my head. I grab onto his ankles and lift both my legs up to his face. He wards off my feet with a gentle push to the toes and I lower my legs. Repeat three sets, 15 times each set. (We’re going up to 20 next week.)

What got me was how he offered both his hands to me to help me up and with such a sweet, shy look in his eyes. As he looked into mine.

Now, there are two guys who make my knees go weak.

My plan is this: I offer to bear a child for GS. He will not be obliged to support the child. He will have visitation rights but in no case will the child be allowed to learn that he (GS) is the father, until the child becomes old enough to understand. (At age 40, perhaps?) And GS will not be introduced to my family.

I’m hoping he consents. S will be leaving for abroad soon to work and GS will be left behind to run the gym. I’m hoping he makes a move then.