Maybe this is what blogs are supposed to be for: getting emotions out in print so they don't eat at you.
Not the best time in my life.
My brother is killing himself. He has only part of a kidney and he keeps on getting himself rushed to the hospital for a detox event. Was told his blood pressure was high enough to blow his ears off, and then afterwards, they were pumping fluids into him to bring it back up so his one partial kidney could function. Because of his addictions and self destructive bent, I did not invite him to my son's wedding a few years back. He is twelve years younger than I am. We have not been close at all. Mostly my fault, as I have allowed my wife's family to drag me away from mine.
My back is continually sore. My left calf feels like "almost-a-charley-horse" twinge to it constantly. I do not feel rested when I wake up in the morning. If I could afford it, I would like to go to a nice warm beach somewhere and watch the water and girls in very skimpy swimsuits.
My daughter will be terminating her contract with the Anyang School District early and she will be coming home from Korea. We are waiting for her doctor to tell her that it is all right to travel. She is experiencing problems with the pollution blowing up from China and has a parasitic inflamation. Her mother (my wife of 42 years) is anxious and upset about the whole thing. She wonders why I cannot be as anxious and upset as she is. I tried to tell her I had that "Y" chromosome, and I have taken the advice of Douglas Adams to heart: "Don't Panic"!
She has also announced to me yesterday that she had been planning to move us out of this house by December or early next year. (Insert a Tim Allen questioning grunt here) She we have to repair a bunch of furniture that she will be selling in June. We have to move furniture around as we sell it. We have to take a bunch of photos of said furniture. We have to make a series of brochures to sell the furniture. When she said she wanted to sell it at a profit, I said "here's a dollar for all of it. That's pure profit. We had this shit shoved into our lives without requesting it. I never wanted it. I never asked for it. You were the one who HAD to have all this clutter." And that's when the fight really began. Oh, she says she has a dealer coming by to make an offer in June. So we have to have everything ready by then.
Now go back to the previous paragraph and insert the fact that she wants ME to do all of this for her: repairing, oiling, cleaning, moving.
Now, if we are really selling all this furniture, it is mainly because she is panicking about the upcoming addition to the family. Our daughter will be staying with us either until she gets her own apartment, she gets married, or we sell the place. Or I win the lottery.
And then there is the matter of health insurance.
I was so looking forward to retirement, or semi-retirement. Working only a few days a week at the Orange Box. Taking my time to do the yard work. Playing with power tools out in the garage. Walking the dogs.
The gods have other plans. They laugh at me.
Now this is assuming there are gods who can do such things.
I don't really know.
But I have to have somebody to blame.
