Shit week. Absolute shit. Wife's uncle passed yesterday after years of living with Parkinson's, his wife has advanced Alzheimer's, so their kids aren't sure if she's aware of what happened, my wife's in bed with a respiratory infection, kid's truck drove it's last mile a couple of days ago; he's broke, and is having a hard time getting paid by his boss (and his fledgling business), who is the younger brother of my oldest son's best friend, well they lost their older brother Wednesday, who was killed in traffic (he's a truck driver) after he ran half naked from his truck claiming someone was after him (yes, history of drug abuse), so my youngest is having a hard time getting ahold of him to get paid, etc.
I'm exhausted from having to pick up the slack of a co-worker who was in the hospital the previous week and he's looking at eye surgery at the end of next week. I've had 2 whiskeys and a Woodchuck's Cider since I got home and I'm still on call for the third week in a row, so if anybody calls me, it better be a fucking life or death emergency. I'm $1 ahead on the two scratch-off lottery tickets I bought this week and I'm looking forward to seeing Tab Benoit and Sean Carney 3 Sundays from now. Whups! Here comes cider #2; I like the tartness.
I've booked a room at the Crash City Motel for the night.
I am not making this up. I wish I was.
