Tuesday, October 22, 2002

Fuck. I knew it wouldn't be good. The last time my mom left me a message like that, Mark had died. Dad is in the hospital, he can't breathe. And I guess he's been slowly developing a case of carbon dioxide poisoning from his weak lungs. Mom says I shouldn't come home, but I think I should. Someone has to take care of things. If he gets out of the hospital, he'll need someone to go to the pharmacy, someone to figure out his meds, and someone to just get things in shape. And it shouldn't have to be my mom. I should be able to trust my brother and sister to do this stuff, but that won't happen, so maybe I'll fly home just to make myself feel better.

And I'm really, really angry at everyone who smokes right now. I wish they would just knock it the fuck off. That includes my mom, all my relatives, and all my friends. STOP IT. I don't want to keep doing this over and over and over. I don't give a fuck how hard it is to break an addiction, I really don't. If you think giving up the smokes feels bad, wait until you have three burly guys throwing you on a gurney, ripping off your clothes and pounding on your chest. Wait until you get strapped onto a tray and shoved in a helicopter and airlifted to another city w/no one to explain to you what the fuck is going on. Wait until you spend a week in ICU w/freaked out relatives hovering in the wings while overweight, out-of-shape, cigarette-smoking health professionals lecture you repeatedly on how stupid you are to smoke.

And that's if you're lucky. If you're unlucky, you get to die on the bathroom floor in front of your wife and baby daughter. You get your chest cracked open, your heart yanked out, and in the end, you still die. So maybe you should hope for the week in the ICU.

Just wait until you get an invite to your own wake. I'll tell you one thing--if you die from smoking, I'm not fucking coming to your funeral.

7:21 PM


2:48 PM

I swear to god I didn't touch any poison ivy.
2:24 PM

Augh! I am so annoyed that I can't find my watch w/the black wristband. I know I wore it to Indy on Friday, and I have a vague memory of taking it out of my hockey bag so I wouldn't lose it in one of the lockerrooms over the weekend, but now I can't find it. It's not so much that I need it to tell time, but Catherine gave me that watch (to replace the one she gave me and promptly lost!). And it's not so much the watch but the wedding ring I know I looped in the band. We're getting new rings in a few days, but it's not like I wanted to instantly lose the old one just because I got a new one.

In other commentary: social workers should not have meetings at local coffee shops. All I want is to drink my coffee and read my book. I should not have to listen to two social workers talk about their screwed-up caseloads. They both had out their notebooks and pens, so I'm assuming it was some sort of formal, pre-arranged meeting. But let me tell you, I should *not* be privy to information about a 14-year-old who has been placed in a group home and shouldn't have been because he has a history of sexually abusing younger children. Idiots.

9:53 AM

Ah...so sweet. Last night when I went out to the living room, Catherine was all curled up in her flannel pajamas, playing with the stuffed Halloween bear I bought her yesterday. She was taking off his cute little cat costume, and putting it back on. She even put a piece of candy in his little pumpkin-shaped treat bag. SO CUTE. One of those moments that make my heart clutch.

We've been going around in vague circles, trying to decide what to do for our tenth anniversary. Go to the Limestone Grille like last year? The Story Inn? The Scholar's Inn? Go to the mall and look at little kids in their Halloween costumes? Drive up to Indy for the evening? About half way home on Sunday we decided we'd do something new and exciting: STAY HOME. I can't remember the last time we actually cleaned off the kitchen table and had a real meal together at home. We "cook" something maybe once a week, and I generally clean my plate whilst walking between the kitchen and the living room. I'm not sure when we stopped hanging out in the kitchen together. Anyway, I'm going to clean the kitchen from top to bottom the day before so we can have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening at home for a change.

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