Bad Friday

My wife is home sick.  I got an atrocious night’s sleep last night and on top of feeling like a wrung out dishrag I am also afraid that my immune system is going to collapse and catch me some of her sickness.  Crap.

Last night I found out that all three of my mother’s siblings have either recently had or are expecting soon some really crappy health news.  Nothing like everyone having problems at once, right?

Bellana is going back to school this weekend.  She’s at her dad’s from now until she leaves.  This morning was my last chance to see her.  I was ready to leave for work and she was still in bed.  I knew she was getting up early to go to work as well, and also that she had stayed up pretty late last night packing, so I didn’t wake her up to say goodbye.  What a schmuck.  I totally should have.  Now I’m not going to see her again until… who knows when.  Moron.  I was being nice and letting her sleep when I should have been a selfish asshole and woke her up for a minute.  Putz.

Jen is still going to see her tomorrow as they are meeting my mother in law for a play in the afternoon.  At least Jen will get to see her again before she goes.  I care more about that than anything, even if I am a little jealous.

I’m going to be home alone for a while tomorrow.  I thought about going to see Star Wars again but I think I’ll save the money (and wait for the rumored extended cut that might be coming out soon).  I am going to have to go and get my hair cut.  I can’t put it off much longer.  I am still so shell shocked by the horrible last haircut that I am seriously afraid.  I don’t want to get butchered again.  I should just let it grow wild forever.  I’ll look like cousin It soon enough, but that isn’t so bad.

We scheduled a band practice for Sunday.  It was originally going to be early-ish, but now it’s back to the usual 6:00 with the expectation that it will be cancelled.  I need to play.  I am still afraid of how the last time felt.  My left hand is actually starting to hurt as I type this.  Just thinking about playing sets me off now.  Stupid psychosomatic hypochondriac jerk.

The final crappy thing about this weekend: It’s my turn to sit with my mother tonight while my father does his weekly volunteering.  The sub shop next door to my parents’ house, the same place that catered our wedding, is closed.  Permanently.  It happened last week.  The catering business is still operating but the restaurant is done.  Where the hell am I going to get my chicken finger dinner now?  It’s a disaster.  A total unholy disaster.

I am 3.5 hours away from quitting time… and despite all the crap I am so ready for this weekend.  It can’t get here fast enough.

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