Blind spot

Blind Spot
15 October 2012

I am guilty of having the most dreadful blind spots.  In fact, perhaps they’re less blind spots than blind craters.  But my disability does not merely run to the visual field, because I am tone deaf as well.  Oh, I can see and hear perfectly fine, that’s not the problem.  It’s more a case of not being able to see and hear, that which I do not wish to see and hear.

There are some areas in my life in which I am completely blind and utterly deaf.  Faults and mistakes I make time and again.  Merely automatic reflexes, which I have no cognitive knowledge of doing or not doing in some cases.  Silly little things.  Yet often it’s those silly little things that annoy others the most.  Being small and silly they would be so easy to fix.  Yet to fix them, you have to remember that they’re there in the first place.  And no amount of pointing them out will really make a difference, unless you’re able to internalise a change.

I don’t see dust.  Really, I don’t.  And to me, it is as if it doesn’t exist.  I don’t particularly care for dust, yet I just don’t really notice it.  Perhaps I would in obvious places right in front of my eyes, but my domestic miracle worker takes care of these for me and as far as I know, my home is dust free.  In certain places I am particularly oblivious to its existence.  Dust on a fridge?  Seriously?  Dust on picture frames, lamp shades and light fittings?  For real?  Who knew?  And then don’t forget I’m short, so dust on a fridge would never really bother me – I simply can’t reach to see it.  Well, perhaps this excuse doesn’t hold water much, as I probably wouldn’t see it even if I was tall.  Maybe it’s the same with men and toilet seats?  Luckily I’ve been blessed with three considerate men, who flip back when they’re done. 

I suspect that we all have our very own unique blind spots.  My mom says that it never naturally occurs to her to close a door or a drawer when she’s done with it.  She has to make a conscious decision to do so each and every time as it’s not merely automatic.  You can see what she’s been doing at any given time, by following very simple clues.  Even a novice Sherlock Holmes could figure it out.  Open Tupperware drawer – aha!  Needed a container for leftovers or something.  Open cutlery drawer – aha!  Spoon needed for leftovers.  Open fridge – aha!  Packed leftovers away in fridge.  Open cupboard under kitchen sink – aha!  Took out dishwashing liquid to wash pot from last night after leftovers were scraped out.  Open back door – aha!  Quickly went to back pantry to get meat from the freezer.  Open freezer – aha!  Got meat from freezer for supper.  This does not bother me.  Has never bothered me and will never bother me.  I grew up with her, yet I automatically close door and drawers behind me.  Without it being a chore, I simply walk behind her, if I happen to be in the same area, and close up as I go.  Not to nag her or point out her faults, just to help her, especially if I’m in the same space.  She would do something similar for me.  No biggie.  It’s not like I’m anal about it, because they could really stand open for all I care.

But perhaps this is an overly easy example of blind spots.  Because some blind spots are less tangible and those are a bit more problematic.  I would simply love for Grant to be more complimentary with regards to my looks (okay, so the raw material he has to work with is not that great, but work with it!), however it just doesn’t occur to him.  That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t find me gorgeous, because deep down, I know he does.  He tells me so occasionally, but clearly I am just more needy in this way.  This is not his fault, but mine.  And because it is not tangible, it is a slightly more difficult blindspot.  We had some or other fancy doo one night and I dressed up really nicely, expecting him to compliment me naturally without me giving him leading signals in advance.  He was perhaps being a bit obtuse and finally after me blatantly asking him outright, he cottoned on to what I was after and told me that I looked beautiful, which somehow had a bit of a hollow ring to it.  When I questioned him about it, his reply was that I obviously looked beautiful, as in duh!!!  And just to seal the deal, he said “I wouldn’t marry a dog”.  There are no words.  He had clearly dealt with this issue now for all eternity.

But I can’t blame him, because his “complimentary-blind-spots” are my “dust-blind-spots”.  And truth be told, the dust is just a silly little example.  The mere tip of the proverbial ice berg.  I have loads more.  I eventually tune out when my kids nag, going to a happy place in my head, where I can’t hear their voices at all, becoming completely tone deaf.  I seriously suck at my time management skills.  Jeez, who am I actually kidding here.  What time management skills?  I don’t plan well enough in advance.  I leave things until the last minute and I procrastinate.  I cut things too fine, when it comes to time, which annoys the living daylights out of me.  And so the list goes on.

But here’s the thing.  None of us are perfect.  Thank heavens!  Life would be far too boring.  I will try with the dust thing.  I really will, but chances are that by this afternoon, when I’ve fetched the kids from school, and they’re busy bickering in the car, I will tune out the noise, and think about something else completely.  And whilst in my happy place, the dust moats will probably go to the furthest recesses of my mind.  To be forgotten about again.