I spent the weekend, both Friday and Saturday at my place. I'm still hung over from the bliss of self-imposed solitary confinement. Pitiful to be so grateful for those moments alone, but I am. You know it's not like I do a whole lot of great things to past the weekends. But the not-so-great things that I do do, are what give me normalcy. I need that right now. For example, I worked until about 5:30 p.m. on Friday, then left the office pitifully giddy to be home alone for the weekend.
I stopped at the store to pick up some weekend-eating-munchies -- the stuff my body demands I stay away from but I never do. Immediately upon walking into the house I lost the shoes and stripped down to my comfy ware, fell in love with my couch all over again and turned on the tube. I love my channel changer. I watched Two and Half Men, Medium and a hospital show that I can't remember the name of right now. I munched on licorice, apple crumb desert with a scoop of ice cream, more licorice...oh yeah then I ate dinner, some chitlins, yeah I did, with some brussel sprouts. I had to toss in some healthy to balance the crap. I paid for it on Saturday, woke up with the mother of headaches, and dragged myself out of bed feeling like 500 pounds of crud. Saturday nite Dinocroc vs Supergator on SciFi. The usual man-eating monster scenes with good graphics showing people getting torn asunder with a bit of humor tossed in for kicks. I love monster violence in movies with good humor on the side. This morning I slept in, then watched Biography which featured Cher. I balled like a baby when they showed Cher giving the eulogy at Sonny's funeral. When the song came on with Cher singing "Sunny, yesterday my life was filled with pain. Sunny, you smiled at me and then it eased my pain..." I lost it. It was hard after that getting myself up for work 'cause I couldn't stop sniffling. Then I turned the channel to Life Time and almost got sucked into watching the next movie where woman meets man, woman falls heavily in love with man, then tries to kill him. Love those man-eater monster movies. But I got myself up and off to Seattle for work.
As the bus is detoured to 3rd Street into downtown, I remembered it was the Gay Pride Parade this weekend. So after getting off the bus I had to muscle my way through a crowd with some very creatively clothed onlookers in varying shades of interesting, dash across the street without getting hit by a float of sorts carrying what looked like eight drag queens doing a Miss America waive and Viola! I make it to my office where I put in about 5 hours of hard labor.
So, I'm back at Dad's and don't hate on me, but looking forward to next weekend. Well, so there you have it. I literally carry on like I'm two if I can't go home for the weekends.
Tamara and Desi entertained dad on Friday and Jean stayed with him Saturday. He's doing just fine.
I don't do a whole lot when I'm at dad's during the week. I focus on keeping the kitchen clean. Just the kitchen though, 'cause he's made the living room, family room and dining room his very own disaster area. I feed the dog, and Sunday night, I get Dad's medications in order for the week. I'm on guard at night in case he has an incident...but other than that, not much. It's the multitude of emotions experienced praying that nothing terrible happens that really whips me up emotionally. So getting time away is important. Rule No. 1 to care giving is probably to remember to take time for numero uno.
Ciao.
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