Yesterday, in the middle of a new episode of true blood, my dad called me. I was waiting for some food delivery so I eagerly grabbed the phone, only to feel a wave of anxiety as I saw who it was. So I hesitated, and by the time I picked up the phone it had gone to voicemail. My dad left a pretty awkward voicemail about having a good year.
I called back at around 10, but he didn't pick up. Then he called me back again at 10:30, at which point I was already half asleep.
We had an extremely awkward 4 minute conversation, in which he asked if I was doing anything for Rosh Hashana (at least he didn't assume I was doing something), and I said (truthfully) that I wasn't doing anything, because I have a dissertation chapter due a week from Monday (today). We then talked a bit more, mostly having to do with school and how I am applying for jobs this year. He managed in those 4 minutes to make me feel bad about my decision to only apply for a few jobs this year, and my plan to stay in grad school for an extra (6th) year in the likely event that I don't get a job-which I have full funding for. Somehow this translates into him thinking that I'm failing out of grad school or something. Wonderful.
He didn't ask for any forgiveness. I didn't offer any. B was not mentioned by either of us.