And My Weekend Is Busy, Too

Admittedly, I am filling it up with stuff I want to do in order to push out things I think I should do.  I thought this would be the weekend I would finally figure out the right arc for some of the sprinkler heads I've been working on.  Also, even though it's been really dry, maybe I should mow the yellow lawn.  And I should get around to my clothes and dishes ... and, oh yeah, my stuff.

But then I remembered that there is a house party on Saturday.  The cover's expensive as hell, and there's only one chick I care to see there, but ******e has invited me for a while and I haven't been there yet this calendar year, so it's time I go.  But there's also Porchfest, where bands play in front of houses in the Wedge neighborhood.  And then MNUFC is playing -- it's on the road, but I figure I would go to a watch party sponsored by the club at least once this season, and I'm doing so at a restaurant I haven't ever been to but have wanted to go to for some time, so that's extra enticement.  Then, tomorrow/Sunday afternoon, the Gopher women's soccer team is hosting Georgia.  Normally the U. hosts smaller colleges from the region, so having a brand-name school from the SEC (let alone a ranked one -- Gophers will have their hands full) come to Robbie Stadium to play is a special event to go to, and so I will be going.

By the way, one of my stripper girlfriends, *****a, needed help moving things Sunday afternoon.  I thought I could reach her through Messenger, but apparently I can only contact her now through Instagram, of which I don't have a personal account.  I would love to help, but since there apparently is no way to reach her, I can't help her.  Shucky darn!

So with all of that, I figure I could fix the sprinklers either Sunday morning or, if I'm not awake in time, after I come back.  I thought I should exercise in the evening, but I'm still not sure they're open, so maybe that sprinkler-fixing and, possibly, mowing will serve as my workout.  Or maybe I won't do those things ... which means I'll be spending this weekend having fun and not doing things I need to do.  Shucky darn!

Busy Week Ahead

So tonight/Tuesday night and Friday night there are MNUFC Matches.  I have my screening at work Thursday morning, which means I will work out and then fast Wednesday evening.  Saturday I work the Lynx Game and Sunday there's that big party I need to go to.  Plus I'm still waiting for my parents to tell me when they're coming home, so I have started to at least figure out how to haul away all my stuff back to the storage unit if I need to pick things up quickly.

But this leaves no time to just relax at home, and probably little time to do chores, such as washing dishes, washing clothes, and going through the aforementioned stuff.  So glad they're not coming home this week ... as far as I know.

Overwhelmed ... And It's My Day Off!

I have so many chores I need to do -- washing the dishes, talking to people about organizing events, cleaning up the house -- that, even though I have today and tomorrow off, I feel even more busy than I would on a normal workday.  I only have time to do the things I need to do ... such as take my car to the shop, which I need to do right now.

I realized all these things as I woke up this morning.  And I did so without the help of the alarm.  That's because, once again, I went to bed early and woke up at a normal time.  I spent last night going through my stuff at my locker, then showering because it is so hot.  I don't want to do things now, and I can only partly blame the weather.  The rest?  Well, I don't know, but I don't know if I'm going to do any of the above things I need to do today, either, because I'm watching the World Cup and then planning on exercising (something I haven't done in weeks) later today.

So overwhelmed.

Exercise Or My Stuff?

Today/Wednesday I have the day off.  Well, I need to go to the dentist in the morning, but I don't have anything I have to do after that.  I could finally delve into clearing out my stuff ... but, because the community center is now closed on Sundays for several weeks, tonight/Wednesday night would be a good time to work out.  It's not like I'll get home too late and be too tired to exercise, which is the excuse I always use to not work out after a workday.

Last/Tuesday night I actually got out of work early.  (I think it had to do with mechanical problems down south.  The work that was supposed to come yesterday/Tuesday will come today/Wednesday ... when I'm not there.  Heh-heh.)  I could have gone home and gone through my stuff.  But no, I wanted to celebrate instead by eating Mexican because it's Taco Tuesday.  Then I saw a movie -- The Sheep Detectives, which is a neat movie, but I was going to see Mortal Kombat II.  When I got to the theater, however, they said the movie had already started.  The cashier gave me a showtime a half-hour earlier than the one I saw.  He said I may have been looking at the wrong theater, but I checked my phone -- it said the MKII was starting at 5.  (No matter; I wanted to see it because I thought it was the sequel to the Mortal Kombat film I saw back in 1995.  Tonight I learned that there was not one but two movies between that and this film.  If I missed a flick in a series, I don't feel the need to see the later ones.)

And Monday I got home, but I was, um ... worked over by my ATF.  I wanted to just sit in bed and mentally bask in what she just did to me, so I felt no need to give myself angst by going through my stuff.  Right decision, too.

All's that to say that, once again, I have had ample opportunities to go through the stuff I say I need and want to go through, and yet I don't.  I think the excuses I give are credible.  Still, they're excuses.  And still, my stuff piles up.

I'll go work out anyway.  Got to stay in some sort of shape.

I've Given Up And Am Going Out A Lot This Week ... Again

So I've bitched often (though not in the past week like I thought) about "needing" to go out too many evenings in the week.  Man, sometimes I just want to go home from work and fucking stay there.

I was trying to reach some equilibrium with that this week, especially since it's a holiday weekend and you're supposed to just veg out.  But I had to chuck that all out the window.  First it's because of my cousin and her son.  She said that Friday might work, but that's The Official Start Of Summer, and I had plans to go to my speakeasy and ease into this Endless Summer by drinking.  Saturday could work, too, but United FC has a Match in the afternoon, I wanted to relax with pizza and a beer afterwards, and there is the possibility of the English Championship Play-Up Match that morning (I say possibility because as I type this, there is a hearing to determine whether Southampton, one of the teams playing, should be kicked out for spying on Middlesbrough, the club it beat more than a week ago to reach the Final).  Sunday and Monday are a lot freer, but I was hoping to fuck ****e one of those days and stay in the other, and I want to do both so badly that I consider seeing my cousin one of those days, as convenient that it might be, a frustrating spanner in the works.  I don't want to say I would rather not see my cousin, but ...

I'm getting over myself.  For one thing, all this soccer watching is still up in the air; Sunday, for example, is Decision Day in the EPL.  If Tottenham Hotspur is still in jeopardy of being relegated, I'm going out to watch it at a pub that morning, and in that case I probably won't have any time to myself at home this weekend.  Still, I'm looking for some solace, and I have to look to the workweek for that, too.  My plan during the workweek was to go out last/Monday night because I had a gas coupon that was going to expire, so I might as well work on my receipts and eat out.  Tonight/Tuesday night and tomorrow/Wednesday night I would stay in, finally.  Thursday I would, for the first time ever, go out to the State Fair, which now opens for Memorial Weekend.  Then Friday's the speakeasy.

That was all shot to hell when I came home from work last/Monday night.  Taped onto my screen door was a notice from the city.  They're doing something with the main sewer line tomorrow/Wednesday.  Between 8 in the morning and 8 in the evening, I am not supposed to use any water at all in the house.  Well, fuck.  I might as well not go home after work.  So, what to do?  How about go to the speakeasy then?  I don't want to "celebrate" summer two days early, but frankly, it makes a lot of sense to just do this tomorrow/Wednesday night.  Not only would I give the city time to not mess up the house's sewer system, going out (instead of staying in) tomorrow/Wednesday night frees up Friday night for me to hang with my cousin and cousin once removed.  Looking at it that way, a lot of problems get solved.

So I'm being a social butterfly again.  Yippee ... ?

(Aside: I am working the early shift at work today/Tuesday.  I should be in bed instead of blog posting this.  Anyway, if I get done with work early, well, it would theoretically allow me to go exercise at a decent hour in the evening.  Yeah, golly, I can do that.  But on that announcement by the city, I am supposed to pour water down all my drains in anticipation of this sewer line cut tomorrow/Wednesday.  It may not take up a whole lot of time, but if I'm doing that, I might as well do other chores ... like go through my stuff, finally.  Yeah, I need to get in shape, but if I really want to go home -- well, I should just do this, huh?  Might as well salvage one night to do nothing.)

I Want To Know When I Need To Go Into Work, That's All

Now, I preface this by saying that I'm blog posting this due to unusual circumstances, namely that my co-worker is going to be out for a while because she is hurting in a big way, though I don't specifically know why or how.  One would think that would be an acceptable reason to see one's schedule change, even though that would mean a change in time you start your shift, like my job does.

But most of the time -- and again, I'm not blaming anyone, this rises only to the level of annoyance -- I don't know what I'm doing at work, and therefore I don't know what time I need to get in, sometimes until my last day of my workweek (usually Friday), and sometimes I don't know until I get in to start my workweek (usually Monday).  Beyond knowing what time I need to get in and thus knowing what time I need to set my alarm, I would want to know what I'm doing -- whether I'm doing data entry, I'm in The Third Department, or The Fourth -- before next week starts so I can get into the right frame of mind.  Each different position requires doing different things, obviously, and I want to know what I'm expected to do each day of the week before that week begins.  Again, I understand I might not know when I want to know.  Things come up, such as my co-worker being in traction for a while.  Also, my boss is real busy.

But when things change on me, I have to alter my plans.  Let me be selfish and rant here.  I was given my work schedule for this week on Friday.  There, I was supposed to come in to work early on Friday only.  And considering we have been asked to stay beyond our shift to key almost on a regular basis since, oh, the year started, my plan was to work a bit extra yesterday/Tuesday, go to the post office downtown, mail my taxes, then celebrate by going to a fancy restaurant downtown.

My co-worker being out injured switched around my entire week.  Now, my early day was, actually, yesterday/Tuesday.  And while I had to stay a bit after to get all the data entry done, I got done before the post offices (at least the ones here) closed at 5.  That meant I didn't have to pay for parking downtown to file my taxes at the downtown post office, which closes at 8.  Yeah, that could be seen as a good thing.  But I don't like it when my plans are changed for me, even if it means I could get home earlier than I thought and wouldn't have to pay for parking, which is a huge pet peeve of mine.  I spent a substantial portion of my workday wondering if I should just go to downtown anyway, even though I would be there way earlier than I thought.  Ultimately, though, the facts that I could mail my taxes before the conventional workday was over and could do it without paying for parking convinced me I should move this dinner at the fancy restaurant, which I was looking forward to, to another day.  (I also realized that the Twins were playing at Target Field last/Tuesday night.  I don't think they're getting any crowds, even though they're playing quite well right now, but I didn't want to risk any chance of losing my temper over traffic.)

However, having my evening freed up invited another opportunity I had to spend some mental bandwidth contemplating: Working out.  I haven't been to my gym in weeks, and after bellyaching over, well, my aching belly after eating so much while watching the WNBA Draft Monday night, this might be a sign that I could, and should, work out.  But I remembered I also had a plan of finishing off the two ginger beers that have been open for weeks in a dark 'n' stormy.  Not knowing what to do, I decided to go home after eating dinner at a mom-and-pop Mexican restaurant and try and sleep.  If I couldn't lose consciousness in half an hour, I'd get up and work out.  Instead, I woke up around 7:30.  I walked up and down the street for exercise instead.  And I drank my cocktail.

Still feel kind of bad I haven't gone to the community center.  But that's what happens when your work schedule changes on you.

So ****e cancelled on me today.  Said she has a bad cold.  I believe her.  This is the first time she texted me in advance to say that she can't do it.  There was that weird day where I came over and a man was there telling me she couldn't have company.  And there was another time where I let myself in, stayed for half an hour, thought she wasn't there, left, and then got a call from her, while she was home, saying she just had overslept.  (I had plans that day, so I figured I would just start them early instead of going back to her place.)

What can I do?  She's sweet, I like her, and she is the only person I know who will, uh, let me love her like I want to.  I just don't know the next time I'll be able to see her.  Hopefully soon.

In the meantime, I'm still, unfortunately, horny.  I have thought about asking one of my stripper girlfriends to come over.  But nah; instead, I'll eat or do laundry, and then I will exercise in the evening.  I'll keep it holstered for another time.

Another Snow Day!!!

Alright, now this is getting ridiculous.  I wake up at my normal weekday time expecting to come in.  I check my phone, of course ... and I see that there has been a group text created with my boss and co-workers.  I still didn't quite understand it (or maybe I just didn't believe it), but apparently the shipment was expected to be so meager again this morning that not everyone had to come in today, either.  This text chain started a quarter after 4 this morning, so obviously I was late to the party, but from what I picked up, it was determined that there was such little work that, like yesterday, one person could come in and do my job and another person's.  It looks as though one of my co-workers volunteered to do that, and, after I texted my boss and another co-worker to make sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing, I asked, and was granted, today off.

Woo-hoo!!!  Hell yeah!!!  But damn, how bad is the storm down there?  Given the work we get is important, I thought they would need Sunday to recover, then be back fully functioning, or at least get up off the mat, by yesterday afternoon so they could at least start getting caught up with giving us a sizable shipment (if not more than a full day's shipment) this morning so we could, you know, work.  Guess not.

So we might get two days' worth of work tomorrow morning, and tomorrow is when I have to cut open packages.  I probably (unless the mid-South needs yet another day to recuperate) will be opening so many packages that I'll get carpal tunnel syndrome.  But that's tomorrow.  I have an interesting (at least to me) dilemma right now: Whether to work out at my gym.  When I got the day off today, I thought it would be a good time to finally get out and exercise.  But then I fell asleep again from around 10 till a bit before 2 -- much needed, by the way -- and now, I don't know.  It's above zero, which is miles warmer than what it was before, but it's still pretty cold.  I just saw on the map that these motherfuckers are still here; they just took a Latina woman this morning.  Finally, if I surprisingly don't have to work, do I want to start up my car?  Do I even leave the house?  You know, I think I should take advantage of this serendipity and stay at home -- completely at home, a one-day lockdown, like the weekend.  There's a bike that Mother used as a clothesline, but started using as a bike to help heal her knee.  I should get on it and just exercise here.  Yeah, I'll do that.  And I'll go out to the gym this weekend.

Got Seven Hours Of Sleep And I'm Still Tired

After working out last night my nose started to run like crazy, so I took some NyQuil before I went to bed to knock me out.

Father woke me up around 10:15, about seven hours after I went to bed.  That's nice and all, but if my body was left to its own devices, I probably would've been out till noon ... and I would've liked it, because right now, I have a damn headache and I still feel tired.

Hate being woken up when I don't have to.  I know, I know, they say you should go to bed and wake up at the same time every day because that's healthiest.  I am healthy when my body is fully rested, and right now, I ain't fully rested, oof.

You Know, I Don't Think My Parents Are Sleeping Together Anymore

By that I mean literally sleeping together, not, um, figuratively (barf)

Like I've said, Mother isn't perfect, but she can walk good now.  I haven't seen her negotiate the stairs all that much, but while she takes it slow, she seems to not have an issue with walking up or down.  The exercises she needs to concentrate on now have to do with adjusting the body while isolating her new knee and putting stresses on her joints (not just her new knee) -- standing up from a chair, high kicks on stairs, stuff like that.

I say this to say that she shouldn't have too much trouble now going up and down the stairs, and down the stairs is where the master bedroom and bathroom are.  That's also where Father ends up after we have dinner.  We all split up: Him to his bedroom, me to my bedroom, and Mother to her bedroom ... which is not the same bedroom as Father's.  Anticipating that she would be incapacitated after knee surgery, they decided that they would turn my former bedroom back into a bedroom where Mother would sleep in as she recuperates.  It's upstairs (we have a split-level) because that's where the kitchen and her sewing machine is.  As long as she was confined to walking on one level, it had to be the one where she can eat and spend her hours at her hobbies.

So that was a few weeks ago.  I assumed it would be temporary, that once she was able to walk up and down stairs without too much pain, she would rightfully move back in with Father in the master bedroom.  No, that hasn't happened yet.  The few times I checked up on her, she is in her bed (it's my bed frame; while this may have been the reason she took my bed, her knee surgery was used by My Fucking Parents as an excuse to toss all the stuff that was important to me, and now I'm getting all pissed the fuck off again, so I'll move on), her pillows arranged how she wants, watching her videos on her streaming box.  She's happy as a clam in her own room.  Moreover, my sister, when she was here, asked if she wanted to move back downstairs once my sister thought Mother could walk down the stairs without too much difficulty.  Mother said no, at least for the time being, because she felt that she would make too much noise and wake Father up if and when she needed to get out of bed in the middle of the night and shuffle to the master bathroom to pee.  Two things about that.  Would that worry change now that she can walk instead of shuffle?  And since she can walk, why wouldn't she move back downstairs and bug Father like usual when she does get up to pee?  It's how they've been living all this time anyway, right?

So it's that second point I want to hone in on.  I'm starting to get the feeling that Mother actually likes her own bedroom.  Why wouldn't she?  She has the whole room to herself so she can do whatever she wants.  And I believe Father snores, and she likes that she doesn't have to hear him snoring.  If she does enjoy sleeping alone, that probably means Father likes sleeping alone as well.  He isn't getting woken up by Mother when she needs to pee, of course.  The only worry Mother has is that Father, who is getting up there in age, won't have someone around him if he falls, Buddha forbid.

I would like Mother to move back down, not gonna lie.  That way I can have the bathroom all to myself.  I don't have to move around the bathmat in case she trips over it.  I can also arrange my shampoo and toothbrush to where I want it.  Finally, I want the upper part of the house to myself in case I don't want to put any clothes on if I need to get up from my bed and shuffle into the bathroom to pee.  However, if this separate bedrooms thing is permanent, and if both parental units are going to be here for a while, this is a New Normal I really, really won't like.

Addendum To: You Know, I Don't Think My Folks Are Leaving Anytime Soon

And yesterday/Thursday, during Mother's PT, I got another sign that they won't be leaving anytime soon.  The good news coming from that session is that she's making such good progress -- or is appearing to make such good progress -- that the physical therapist recommended cancelling the next three sessions.  She just needs to work on the exercises he prescribed and come back in two weeks.

That's great.  She is walking without much assistance, even though my sister and I are worried that she is still walking sort of like a penguin.  The problem is that even though the therapist thinks the visits can be spread out to every two weeks, he thinks there should be a few more visits.  I was under the impression that Mother would be in the clear -- like completely done with everything -- six weeks after surgery.  But the way he makes it sound, there will be another session a week after My Mother hopes to get the "all clear" (and now I don't know if that is the clean bill of health I always thought it was), and then there would be, at least, one more session two weeks after that.  That session, assuming it's the final one, might fall after the New Year.

Now, this physical therapist might not have his dates right, or he may not be totally aware of My Mother's plans.  But if he is correct ... egad, my parents are going to be here through the holidays.  Sheesh.

I woke up this morning at a normal hour -- 8:30-ish, when I could hear my sister leaving for something.  I spoke with my sis last night about monitoring Mother while she does her exercises this morning and, well, I figured my sister has done so much caring for My Mother, I think it is my turn to get out of bed and help out with Mother's PT while she takes several hours for herself.

After she got done exercising, I figured I had the time and the energy to clean out the gutters, something that needed to be done.  This was the perfect time; I was up, I don't have any other time to do it this weekend, and I don't know if it will be warm enough and/or not snowing for me to do it two weekends from now because I might not have time next weekend, either.  I thought there would be more leaves and detritus to clean out, but either there wasn't as much as I thought, or I didn't look closely enough, which is a possibility.

While sweeping away the leaves from the driveway, I looked up.  The skies are gloriously cloudy, and the trees on my street are still turning vivid shades of yellow, orange and red.  This weekend, this morning, would have been the perfect time to leaf-peep.  And I checked the temperature on my phone: 35 degrees, and it feels like 28.  But it doesn't feel like 28, or 35.  Maybe I'm hot from all the gutter-cleaning I was doing, but I felt quite warm and cozy for what I was wearing.  Anyway, this looked like perfect fall weather, and so I had to take a couple pictures of how I want the sky to look every day for the rest of my life.  No, really.

Turns Out I'm Doing Nothing For Halloween

I always go out on Halloween.  I don't go out for Halloween, mind you; I find something to do to avoid the trick-or-treaters.  I've done it so long it's become routine to just stay out after work.

I was making plans to go out tonight/Friday night/Halloween when I asked my sister if she wanted to do anything.  She decided she wouldn't go because she feels she needs to take care of Mother, who is still recuperating from surgery.  And you know, that totally makes sense.  We two can't just go out and do something on a Friday night three days after our mom went under the knife.  So I then thought I would just do something by myself, like get a massage or go to a movie.  But then I realized Mother still was hurt, so maybe I should come back home after work -- you know, just because.  And so I will.

Won't enjoy it.  Beyond not having a Friday night to myself, I am scared that trick-or-treaters will still ring the doorbell at my house.  I assume that my parents make sure no one comes knocking by turning off all the lights and staying in their bedroom.  But My Mother can't do that.  She is supposed to walk around the house to build up strength in her new knee.  That obviously means the lights in the house have to be on, and I'm scared some dumb or overeager kids will see that as a sign we have candy.  I would rather not be around for that awkwardness, but alas, I will be around in case that happens, unfortunately.

Disappointing Son Didn't Do What He Said He Would Do!

So Mother had surgery Tuesday.  Sister went with her.  They had to stay at a hotel overnight and be seen by a nurse who was also at the hotel tending to Mother and another patient.  Never heard that before. Anyway, that meant that Tuesday night offered up a situation I dread: Being alone with Father.

Dinner was fine because it was quiet.  He brought up stocks.  His portfolio is doing blockbuster.  Me ... I work and am tired all the time, so I'm not doing as well.  He asked me what companies I have.  I don't remember.

What I hoped he wouldn't bring up he brought up after dinner.  Of course he said, "Hey, every night you take a shower, right?"  And while trying to hide my frustration that he would belittle me with this same bullshit again, I go, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure."  "You brush your teeth too, right?" he replied, and I can't fucking believe he asked me if I brush my teeth every night.  I don't, but that's none of his goddamn business.

Just there and then, while I was also yeah-yeah-ing as to whether I brush my teeth, I resolved to leave the house.  Since I worked early I came home early, and that gave me the opportunity to exercise.  I then thought I wouldn't because I didn't want to leave My Fucking Father at home.  He's healthy, and as you can see he's as goddamn insufferable as ever.  But My Fucking Parents have pretty much been attached at the hip.  My Fucking Mother has taken girls' trips in the past, but Tuesday was the first time they've been away from each other longer than a trip to the grocery store.  I hate this fucker, but I would be sick to my stomach if I worked out only to come back and see him dead on the floor in front of his computer.  And yet, after he used the opportunity of being alone together to infantilize and lecture me once again about proper fucking hygiene, I decided that fear didn't fucking matter to me.

"I think I'm going to work out later," I said.

"OK," he said.

---

And then I didn't.  The downside to attempting to work out after I started out my day so early is that I might want to catch up on sleep instead.  That was a possibility; I allowed myself a chance to rest once I got done eating at 5.  And I woke up at around 7:30, way too late to go out and work out.

I was curious about whether My Fucking Father could tell.  So I just moseyed out to the top of the stairs and looked at the front door.  It was all locked.  I told My Fucking Father I was going out later.  He may have forgotten.  Or, he could tell I was asleep and knew I wouldn't be going out after all.  And knowing how his negative, derisive mind works, he knew I wasn't going to do what I said I would do.

I have to admit that pisses me off, and I am as angry at myself as I am at him.  He has seen me fail to come through on things I said I would do all my life.  This is a small thing, and again, maybe he just locked the door out of habit and totally forgot about what I said after dinner.  But this one galls me, and I think it's because I lashed out after he insulted me over stupid habits he shouldn't be concerning himself with.  It was I who wanted to, in a really vague sense, "prove him wrong" (even though exercising has nothing to do with getting back at him for asking if I shower and brush my teeth, I know) and then I absolutely did not do it.

I have known for a long, long time that My Fucking Father had dreams for me when I was born.  That's the problem when you ascribe to your progeny your dreams for them; they don't come through for you because they're not their fucking dreams, they're yours.  So yeah, I have a feeling My Fucking Father was disappointed in me just because I didn't exercise like I said I would.  But I am just as disappointed in him as a father, and probably moreso.

I'm Too Bleepin' Busy

Work is one thing.  But when I have free time after work, only for me to do other "fun" things every single day, that "fun" stuff ain't fun no more.

Case in point, the next several days:

• I have to work a Game this/Saturday afternoon in Minneapolis, plus there's an MNUFC Match in the evening I need to go to.  And I will have a couple hours to kill, so I figure I can go to a brewery, drink a beer, and work on my fantasy football stuff, which I should have sent out at least a couple weeks ago.
• Tomorrow/Sunday I get to sleep in (if my parents don't fuckin' wake me up in the goddamn morning), but I am supposed to go out to Palmer's to see Cornbread Harris in one of his final residencies before the place closes next month.  I figure it's better to see him now than one the final ones in September because I'm guessing it'll be really crowded after Labor Day.  On top of that, there's the Nine Inch Nails concert at the X in St. Paul.  I'm not a huge fan, but I still want to see him.  Moreover, many of my friends from high school love NIN, and for that reason I want to see if there's a ticket at a non-unreasonable price available.  Harris's concert is from 5 to 7; the arena show doesn't begin till 7:30, and who knows when Trent Reznor & Co. hit the stage.  So my plan, assuming I get a Nine Inch Nails ticket, is to drive all the way to downtown St. Paul in the afternoon to get a free spot (thank Buddha St. Paul doesn't enforce meters on Sundays), take the light rail westward to Palmer's, and then take it back eastward to see NIN.  Sounds like a plan ... a very long and busy one.
• I've realized that work on Mondays will be the longest just because the work in the departments I work in aren't usually worked on over the weekend.  Therefore, wherever I am, I have to deal with the work that came in Saturday as well as Sunday and, possibly, that Monday morning.  On top of that, I have gotten kind of tired of going home real late and seeing all the food my parents left for me.  It's usually a lot, and despite them repeatedly saying I don't have to eat it all, they're a bunch of damn liars, and I have to eat it all.  Finally, my wellness screening at work is Thursday, so the less shit I eat, the better.  With that being said, after work Monday I plan on going to Hooters because I have a calendar coupon where I buy ten boneless wings and get another ten for free.  But I will not drink pop.
• I have Tuesday and Wednesday off because I need to block off time to do some extra exercising before the screening.  I need to work out in the worst way.  But I will do that after eating dinner with my parents where I can control my portions.  Tuesday afternoon I plan on seeing ****e for a visit (if you know what I mean), and Wednesday I want to ... well, eat somewhere.  That and maybe hunt for this tool Mother wants me to find.
• Thursday's the start of The Minnesota State Fair, and assuming I get out at a decent time (and assuming I can find free parking somewhere), I will start my day getting my screening at work, then work, then going to The Great Minnesota Get-Together.  I love going to the Fair, but right now, that entire day seems daunting to me.

So next Friday will be my next "boring" day, where I just go to and from work.  Things might actually slow down next weekend.  But that's next weekend.  These next seven days are so might be too hectic for me to have any fun.

Belt Broke

It's been really wearing for some time.  Naturally, I use only one notch.  It's not as if the size of my belly fluctuates wildly, even though I often think it does.  But because it does, I've been really using up that notch.  The area around that hole has gotten really, really torn up.

Still, I didn't think anything drastic would happen like it did at work yesterday/Friday.  I was using the bathroom on my lunch break, I was undoing my belt, and as I was pulling the end of the belt away from the, er, notching thingy, the end tore off.  I was holding the end of it in my hands.  Damn.

I made it through the end of the day, which included eating and drinking at Sociable and walking to Art-A-Whirl, both while in a steady downpour.  I just kept wearing the part of the belt that still was in the loops.  It sure as heck wasn't holding anything up.  Moreover, I'm wearing khakis whose button popped off because I'm so fat.  But the pants held up without any assistance.  I am very lucky.  But now I need to ... well, first I need to find new pants that have a button, but then I need to buy a new belt.  But where can I buy one that won't break off like this one does?  Belts are meant to be cinched, and cinching creates tears in the belt.  At some point it's going to tear, won't it?  Well, then again, I had this belt for barely two years, I think.  I need to find one that will last at least a little bit longer.

Glad Last/Sunday Night Is Over

So after lunch and learning that I'm helping Father stick an EKG monitor on his bare chest, I hear Mother screaming at Father, over something.  I have never known what they've ever argued over, but I haven't heard Mother yell like that in a long, long time.

We eat a very early dinner (four hours after lunch, which is insane).  I was the one who attached this EKG on Father; Mother was in her office doing her own thing.  I go up to my bedroom and eventually take an early-evening nap before going out to exercise.  Mother bangs on my door to wake me up.  I'll expound on this hopefully in a different blog post, but never wake me up from sleep.  I hate that.

She gets me out to the dinner table.  She needs help booking their flight, although she actually said, "You promised to help me with my frequent flier miles," which is something I don't ever remember her saying.  It was obvious she was in the kind of mood she has often been in after yelling at Father -- wounded, feeling like a victim and lashing out because she felt entitled.  And this type of thing My Fucking Mother ropes me in to doing for her is the type of thing she usually ropes me in to do for her, which is something that has to do with not understanding English words and some elements of the task I believe she knows how to do, but doesn't want to do them because she wants to act helpless.  Besides all that, I feel like I've been dropped in unfamiliar territory, and so I'm figuring what the hell I need to do, but, and this is also typical of her, whenever I run into a roadblock or something I don't understand, she goes, "Well, what are we going to do?"  And I've gotten a little better at pointing to her, "Um, we are not doing anything.  You brought me into this because you don't want to do this.  I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do."  (She also has this tick where I say something to her and she goes, "I know."  She clearly isn't using that phrase when she's supposed to, but I still get triggered because I take her literally at her word, and I want to say to her, "No, you don't know!"  But that's another blog post.)

I can't book a flight online.  Mother asks me to call for her, fuckin' A.  The call wait time is 2 1/2 hours.  They invite me to text instead, so I tell My Mother I'm going to leave for the gym and just text the airline about this.  So as I'm putting on my shoes, my sister calls My Mother.  There is another matter my sister wants to talk to her about.  "Has Unforgivable Wetness talked to you about it yet?" my sis says.  "No," Mother replied, "He doesn't want to talk to me about it."  And I had to shout from the bottom, "That's not true!" and I went back up to the dining room to get my face on Mother's phone to tell my sister Mother's lying, and then to tell Mother that if she wants to talk about this other matter, she should talk to me, otherwise I'm assuming she's handling it herself.  Goddamn.  I've always thought I've gotten my self-pity from Father.  But I might be wrong.

Anyway, I got the gym but had to delay exercising because I was busy texting with the airline rep, or the bot, who knows?  There are no flights available.  So I come home, see Mother at the other side of the front door ... and she's all calm and stuff.  If she weren't calm, she wouldn't even look at me.  So maybe she's gotten over what she needed to get over.

At any rate, this was a Sunday that was a little too eventful.  Glad it's over.

Too Much Time Off

Maybe the best perk I have at work is the number of paid days off I get.  I have so many per year that I calculated that I would have to spend a bit more than two days off per month in order to use and not lose all of those days.  I know this might sound weird, but that's a lot.  And add to it the edict that only one person from our group of 15 can (or is supposed to be) be out on a planned absence every day, and that brings on the added complication that there may already be a dwindling number of days I can't get off between now and the end of the year.

So at this point I not only have to take time off willy-nilly (instead of planning them for vacations), I need to just find dates to take off and lay claim them as soon as possible.  I am doing that Tuesday and Wednesday.  Why those two days?  Really, no reason besides the fact that 1) there are usually enough people scheduled on those two days to cover me and 2) they were free.  I will need to find, like, 16 more days like these to be all set.  In the meantime, I am trying to plan things to do Tuesday and Wednesday -- see a movie, eat out for lunch and exercise are things I've come up with so far.

Oh, Shit, Did I Miss A Day?

Goddammit, I missed a day!  I didn't blog post yesterday/Wednesday.  First time in years I've done that.

I have an excuse -- I think.  See, I didn't sleep at all before going to work Wednesday.  I managed to get a quick cat nap in around 6:30 p.m. Tuesday evening, but I only managed to do that because 1) I was scheduled out in My Main Department that day and 2) I had no plans in the evening, like working out (which I did Monday) or working on my bracket while drinking (which I did Wednesday).  So even though I had a power nap in my car Wednesday afternoon, and I felt good going to two bars to work on my bracket and then coming home to fill it up on every website I wanted to play on, I eventually crashed, and hard.  When I blog post and review what I wrote and I can't understand what the hell I wrote, that's when I know to pack it in.  So I published my blog post and went to bed around 12:15 a.m.

But I didn't.  I guess I didn't hit the "publish" button, because I just now saw that I what I intended to blog post for yesterday/Thursday (and honestly, I still don't understand the last sentence I wrote) was still in Draft Mode.  I swore I did; otherwise I would have checked before yesterday/Thursday turned into today/Friday.  But it looks as though I was so damn tired I didn't even know to publish my daily blog post.

I would be mad at myself for breaking my streak of daily blog posting if not for the fact that I know I have to listen to my body when it says to go sleep, and when I'm as tired as I was just about 25 1/4 hours ago, I will sacrifice everything to go unconscious.  And I can't change anything now, so (shrug).  I think my next blog post (which will be in the afternoon since I am taking today/Friday off) will be the blog post I wanted to publish for yesterday/Thursday.  Well, I'll fix that last stupid sentence, and then I will blog post it.  Just to make up for my miss.

Ate Too Much (Again)

Ever eat so much that you feel like throwing up?  That even smelling more food made you nauseous?  That is how I felt after eating at this steakhouse/supper club after work last/Friday night.  They are very generous with their birthday coupon -- $25 off!!!  So I had to use it for their most expensive sirloin ... and the hashbrowns, bread, and watermelon in a cup (?) that went along with the dinner.  Thank God I had an Old Fashioned, a Coke and a water to wash it down or else it wouldn't have been good.

But for all the times I complain and hate myself for eating a gigantic meal, believe me, what I did last night was insane (well, that or I am getting old).  I didn't think I was going to be able to walk out of there.  I felt like the guy who died via "gluttony" in Seven, only this was self-inflicted.  I had to walk around Hy-Vee to feel like I got any sort of exercise to work out the food, even though I had a lot of meat sweats that set in after I got done eating (although I then realized I needed to buy travel-sized Kleenex).  And then I fell asleep, which helped my body deal with it all.

As I write this I'm still full, but not as stomach-bursting like several hours ago.  And yet I brought home the second helping of bread that I was so generously given.  I think I can keep these until lunch today.