What a fuckin' day.
Tuesdays always seem to be like this. Yesterday, Mondays in general, are kind of slow. It's like I, and this family, are trying to ease into the workweek. But the next day, Tuesday ... it's a combination of two things: 1) finally feeling you're up to speed, and 2) needing to get some work done during the week.
So it began in the morning, when I went to the bank to cash some money for Mother. Right when I was conversing with the teller, my phone rings. It was a housing inspector with the city, one that My Father asked me to contact about one of his real estate properties. It's been a bitch trying to reach her, but after about, oh, almost a month running into a full inbox, the voicemail I finally left her was being returned by her. Too bad it was in the middle of me getting money.
I felt bad for doing this, but after she asked me a question that required me to concentrate -- and realize that I didn't have the answer, My Father did -- I told her I'd call her back. In fact, during this call I think I received yet another call that I missed.
Who was that? I called Mother. I got Father; Mother was busy. Told him about the question I was asked; he answered it. Went to McDonald's across the street to score a Shamrock Shake (mmm ... tasty. I hadn't had one in years. What's wrong with me??) and then called back the inspector. She didn't pick up. Great, another two weeks of getting full inbox messages and phone tag.
I savored the shake in the 20 minutes I was in McDonald's. The sun was streaming in through the window at my window-side booth. I usually don't like the glare when I sit in there, but it felt good yesterday, even better now that the sun's so intense that it felt warmer than the 40 or so degrees it was yesterday.
It would be the last moment of contentment for me yesterday.
---
Don't remember for sure, but Mother I think called me while I was slacking at McD's. Forgot to take the phone off silent, but I won't get bent out of shape this time.
Saw the missed call when I got back in my car. Called her, told her about the money. She said she had something for me to do online back at home. Good -- planned on going back anyway.
But as soon as I get back and warm up the computer and call Mother, she tells me she's busy and she'll call me back. Interfering with my nap time, Mother. I help Grandmother open the patio door and go to my bedroom.
I anticipate being woken up in the middle of a peaceful, restful nap, but I do it anyway. But then, just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, Grandmother bellows from outside. She's cooking something up outside at the propane tank but it appears to be empty. I check it; yes, it's empty. You wouldn't just not eat, would you Grandmother?
No, she said; change it. You fucking kidding me? This is Grandmother at her most needy and diva-ish. We have milk cartons to hold down the stove's lid; I throw them onto the deck in frustration. The change was a snap; getting the propane smell out of my hands was not, and I have it on me all afternoon.
Once I got done doing what Grandmother fucking wanted me to do, I hear my phone in my bedroom. Are you kidding me?! What the fuck is with people calling me when I'm in the middle of something today?!?!?! Mother told me about this website where she wanted to pay something for my parents' real estate property. Or something. What she said she saw on the screen is not what I saw, so she was going to take the sheet of people she was looking at home for me to see it.
This was the first sign that I was going to accomplish nothing because of Mother.
---
Needed to go to Barnes & Noble to research fantasy baseball. (Mental note: I have that draft tonight.)
Come back early to catch the beginning of the national news. Once again, I'm mere seconds behind. Shit!
Help Grandmother with her shot. She said that My Fucking Father yelled at her for cooking up fish indoors and making the kitchen stink. You mean the fish you cooked outside? Grandmother wants me to set the record straight with him. Why the fuck should I stick out my neck for you, you insufferable old woman??
But when I go out to the dining room to peep at the news, Father pantomimes for me: Pointing at the kitchen, then at Grandmother's bedroom, then fanning in front of his nose, saying, "She made things smell." Well, that was the opening to tell him what actually happened.
He goes ballistic when I told him I changed tanks. I pointed out which one I switched out. "But it's not empty!" he said. Bullshit, I tried it out. (This is a plant.)
Meanwhile, Mother tells me to look at Father's iPhone. I tried to download photos he took from it last night. I was already pretty frustrated that I couldn't help them, and now something happened to the phone I was working on?
My Father couldn't call with his iPhone. It said it had no service. So I spend the next hour or so trying to get service back. I'm skittish about what I try, but at the end I say fuck it and reset fuckin' everything. Didn't work.
---
Shit, so much goddamn shit happened last night that I'm going to stretch it to two posts.
No comments:
Post a Comment