I sit here in office 249, staring down the last work week of the year, the Meghan McCain tome Dirty Sexy Money winking at me. Outside, the temperature hovers at 17 F, as arctic air chills most of America.
Yes, I blinked, and the weekend was over.
So, what happened?
First, I saw Despicable Me with Maria Thursday night (yes, a little Daddy/Daughter time). Wonderful film, even if the tickets cost us $3 and the concessions cost $19. I laughed a lot, and Steve Carell is a genius. I’ve subjected Whitney to my (bad) Gru impression since Friday.
Friday was an odd day. I got my soul RotoRootered on Thursday afternoon, so I felt off-center Friday. Emotional and talkative, rather like my Real Self© got to come out and play for a few hours. That’s me that isn’t crushingly overbearing, self-absorbed, defensive, etc. The guy who wrote poems, played (and liked) music, and put himself out there every day. ‘Twas nice.
Anyway, so I had a couple of meetings on interviewing technique Friday, then I ran out to Ken Towrey’s Auto Care to get the Blizzaks mounted on Bessie, our 2004 Honda Odyssey. Beautiful afternoon to just be out-and-about.
Then, I came home and had to take Joe to Louisville, and I got some sleep. Sleep is wonderful; I recommend it.
Saturday dawned with both Whitney and I cursing our mattress. “Curse you, mattress!” we yelled. Whitney fell on some ice last week, and I have a bad back. Saturday, we made a great 60-year-old surly couple, though neither of us have the requisite dentures. In any case, we resolved to buy a mattress on Saturday. Then Whitney fell back to sleep for 2 hours and I looked at my TODO list, and we resolved to feel resentful that we couldn’t buy a mattress on Saturday.
If the above sounds like a passage of absurdity from a Johnathan Swift essay, welcome to Chez Combs.
Anyway, Saturday was productive. Everyone bathed, which at Infant DefCon 1 is an accomplishment. I took the recycling out, and went to Kroger, then we hit ReKid to recycle some clothes and the Lexington Ice Center where Whitney and Maria skated. I got to hold Grace and watch them skate, which is fine by me. My panic attacks at the sight of skates have stopped, but only recently.
Sunday, I got some time to myself, which basically served to free up the logjam of crap in my psyche–Things I haven’t dealt with, don’t want to deal with, and don’t have time to deal with.
To cap it all, the Midwest snowstorm sideswiped Kentucky just in time for me to fight snow all the way to Shelbyville and all the way back. At least the Blizzaks + Honda traction control made that easy enough.