Today Was A Bad Day

• Snowed today.  Not the pounding blizzards we've had, but the soft, fluffy, even pretty flurries that introduces Christmas scenes in our mind.  They're great if you don't have to drive in them.  But I did, and I had to shovel it off our driveway, too.
• Woke up early because I needed to talk to my Grandmother's diabetes counselor that she's just not understanding how preparing the shots work.  I'm glad to get the counselor to switch to a different vehicle, but I was still tired.  I slept for only, like, 2 1/2 hours (although before then I slept for about another 2 1/2 hours around midnight ... hmmm, five total hours the day after I didn't have a particularly long sleep -- what happened to me?), and I needed sleep.
• But, like yesterday, everybody seemed to want to talk to me when I didn't want to be bothered.  One final call from someone I left a message for about 20 minutes before I wanted to wake up convinced me my time would be better spent cleaning off the driveway of the dusting of snow we had.
• Grandmother wanted me to fill up her meds, which was cool because I was going to Target anyway to fulfill the wish of this Playboy model.  But because of various reasons, I was unable to refill her prescriptions, which means I'll have to go back tomorrow.
• One of the calls I got was from a woman representing a drug study.  They say I'm eligible and want me in as soon as possible ... but I can't because I'm in the middle of another drug study.  I knew I couldn't, but I wanted to make sure, and my contact in the experiment I'm currently in said hell to the no.  Chance for money: Gone.
• Dropped by my aunt, which became a comedy for two reasons: The money Grandmother asked me to give to my aunt became an issue with her because I forgot what Grandmother told me what the money was for; and my aunt still didn't tell me which nursing home my uncle's in.  Oh, now I remember I promised you how I may be losing some family members this year: I learned from my cousin (my aunt's daughter) that he suffered a stroke over the summer and is now incapicitated somewhere over the river.  I want to visit him, but this means I'll have to wake up in the morning this weekend and visit him with my folks.
• Finally, while dashing out to give a movie pass to a former co-worker of mine at a coffeeshop before heading to the Wolves game with a friend (also former co-worker, who I met at the same place of work as the guy I gave the free movie tickets to), I'm backing out of my driveway.  I hit my garage door opener ... and it doesn't close.  Goddamn, of course it has to happen now!  I spend the next 20, 30 minutes trying to figure out what the hell happened to the garage door opener and then helping My Fucking Father figure out what happened.  And that means moments of him telling me to bring the ladder "up to this spot," then yelling at me for wanting to rest it against the Mercedes even though he didn't tell me not to.  Or, whining at me for not knowing off the top of my head that his hand motions meant he wanted me to pull up the garage door.  Fuck you, Father, because of this I don't think I want to help with your appeal of your IPO settlement rejection.  Disrespecting asshole.