Thursday, July 14, 2011
What a Long Day
Yesterday was a very very long day. I remember thinking about halfway through it that I was beyond tired and I kept thinking it was Thursday or Friday.
The flooring guys were here by 9. I had already gotten 4 kids off to summer school by then and was working on stuff in my office. The guys were thrilled with Buffalo Wild Wings and it was a nice bonus that the U.S. Women won the semi finals.
The charter guys came a day earlier than what I had scheduled and in the process of them changing the internet and the cable they had to go into places that I hadn't been in in a while -- like the attic -- which I had paid both John and Jimmy to clean. Apparently I need to check carefully.
Courtney came needing money for gas.... so she could take John to some appointments today -- so I reluctantly gave her money for gas. But today they got into a fight and now she says she isn't taking him. Whatever. Note to self: A person who hates drama should not adopt a lot of kids who will grow up to be adults. Period. ;-) Response from self: A bit late for that advice don't you think?
Mike called saying he had back problems. Blaming us somehow for it, although it is a genetic condition that is worsened by overtraining -- uh would extreme sports for years qualify, I think so.... but somehow we did that by not getting him good medical care when he was younger or something. He said, "So are you going to go by the pharmacy and get the meds or do you just want me to pick up some cash?" (He was out of jail for a few hours for work release)." I said, "I'm not sure i"m going to do either -- which set me up for several accusational sentences. I told him I would get back to him, but he didn't call back and I didn't call him. Because if I don't go out and get him the prescription, then next week when his friends ask him about his parents he will tell them that we are uncaring and unloving people. But, if I do go out and get him the prescription, then next week when his friends ask him abou this parents he will tell them that we are uncaring and unloving people. SO I have little motivation. He said, "Well, I'm SORRY that when i NEED something I actually call my PARENTS!" To which I responded, "Well, I'm sorry that it's ONLY when you NEED something that you actually call your PARENTS." Yikes no wonder he thinks I"m a b****. But I'm just so done with all of it. For now.
But today if he calls at a time when I can get away I will probably head out and get him the prescription. I love him, he's my son, and I don't want him to be in pain. And if JOhn contacts me, I will drive the 30 miles to get him for his appointments as well.... because I don't want him to end up back in jail or go blind -- which might happen eventually if he misses these appointments. Because I love him.
See why yesterday was exhausting?
On top of that dear little Mercedes has determined that she doesn't have to do much of anything I ask this summer. She's keeping it under the radar enough -- and letting me know where she is as she flits from one firend's place to another -- that I'm not going to over-react, but she is certainly heading in the opposite direction of where she needs to be.
Dominyk has a list of assignments that he has to finish by tomorrow that I completely forgot about last night in the midst of all of the cable guys flooring guys grown son drama.....
And all day long, all I could do was think about my buddy John and his parents and aunt and uncle -- some of my very closest friends. it was so hard knowing of their grief and being so far away. This has been like a shadow over me since Saturday afternoon when I found out.
But like all days, yesterday ended and now tomorrow has begun. I have been to the Y, gotten the 4 kids off to summer school, greeted the flooring guys, and cleaned off my desk. I have several work tasks to complete today as well as getting some other things done. We will be eating out both meals today again, but I'm picking cheaper places! ;-)
I just yawned. And it's only 9:55 a.m. I'm thinking it might be another long day.