Communication, it seems, like most things, is cyclical. You have periods where you communicate with others easily, taking comfort that your interactions seem to be on the same wavelength. And then you have periods where it’s like your words, intentions, and actions and their ears and eyes exist on a different plane, prohibiting full understanding and fostering frustration.
Phil and I have been struggling with miscommunication lately, and it’s driving me crazy. He gets really snippy and annoyed with me, and I have no idea why, so I get snippy back and we end up having a conversational meltdown. He told me last night that he was annoyed with me because when I came home from work, I seemed like I was in a bad mood. This was probably because I was feeling pretty crappy (this sinus infection is getting worse), but I was in a fairly congenial mood — despite what my face, bogged down by cold medicine, might have said. Billy and Jimmy were over, and when I walked in, apparently I seemed like I was annoyed. But Phil is constantly telling me that I always come in looking pissed off when his friends are there. I guess he thinks they will be offended if I don’t come in and do cartwheels at the sight of them or something. In reality, I didn’t know anybody was at my apartment, and I felt like shit, so I probably looked like I felt like shit the nanosecond I came into the door.
It’s really frustrating because when I go over to his friends’ houses, they don’t jump up and shake my hand and offer me cigars to make me feel welcome. I figured we were past all that, and could just come in without formal salutations and whatnot. But this happens at least once or twice a month. I come home, Phil acts weird toward me, and later I learn that both he and his pals thought I was pissed that they were there. What the hell? So I told Phil from now on to call me ahead of time if we have company so I can put on a clown face and maybe pick up a cake or something at Bi/Lo to prove, once and for all, that I’m not in a bad mood!