Over the weekend, we went to Augusta so I could meet Alan’s parents. I was very nervous about this, but I think it went well. His mom and dad were both extremely friendly and nice to me. I didn’t say ‘fuckin’ A!’ even once, or drop some dish that had belonged to his great-great-grandmother, or step on their dog’s neck and kill it or anything, which was mostly because they don’t have a dog and didn’t trust me with any china. I didn’t commit any etiquette faux pas or say anything vile or sneeze into their dinner, or any of the other terrible things I was worried about doing, so I guess all things considered, it went far better than I had any right to expect, knowing what my life is like most of the time. Alan’s mom is very intelligent and sweet; she put me at ease right away. Alan’s dad has about a thousand hilarious stories from his tenure as a probation officer, and he’s a racing fan (woo-hoo!). Alan’s brother Christopher loves Spongebob and good old Delta blues, so he and I weren’t exactly struggling for conversational topics!
They had a cookout Sunday with ribs, chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs. Their neighbors, who were very kind and friendly, came over too, so Sunday was great fun. Monday we had a yummy country breakfast, hung out on the porch talking and then his folks took us to T-Bone’s for a great steak lunch. They took me on a driving tour around Augusta so I could see the sights, including the course where the Masters is held (didn’t see any hairy-legged feminist protestors, damn the rotten luck), the Savannah River, local points of interest like gypsy-inhabited Murphy Village, the Partridge Inn, beautiful old houses on The Hill, new houses going up along the river (beautiful - I’d like the pink one) - which I thoroughly enjoyed. Alan and I headed back around four-thirty, both because I was on doggie duty for my parents, who were in Chattanooga, and because we wanted to beat any Hurricane Frances-related rainstorms. We both had Tuesday off, so we hung out at my folks’ house where he watched me have a truly hellish allergy attack (I’m a laugh a minute). As it turned out, my folks cut their trip short because of the weather, so they arrived Tuesday afternoon armed with truffles, fudge and barbecue. We ate dinner with them and then I was finally back home. I had truly enjoyed the weekend and I’d had a lot of fun, but it was great to be back in my own bed. Plus, thanks to the sainted Miss Betty, my own bed had fresh, clean, sweet-smelling sheets on it (big woo-hoo!).
Today, back at work - I spent about half the morning crying in my office and some of the afternoon crying in my boss’s. I don’t have a bad life by any means, nor do I dislike my job, but I am just so stressed right now. I’m sick of everything that’s going on around here, and I know it’s mostly me - nothing in the way of fuckwittage is particularly different from my average day, it’s that I’m reacting to it badly. I want a break from here!!! The holiday and my extra day off didn’t really help; that is, it did while I was relaxing but it only put me that much further behind today and made me that much more frustrated and upset. I have a different set of people ‘reminding’ me, ‘nagging’ me or ‘bitching’ at me, depending on how you look at it, for every single thing on my agenda. I want out of here for a while. A LONG LONG LONG WHILE. Now, having worked all day without a lunch break and worked an extra half hour, I think I shall head homeward to cry some more.
MONTOYA DELENDA EST!
They had a cookout Sunday with ribs, chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs. Their neighbors, who were very kind and friendly, came over too, so Sunday was great fun. Monday we had a yummy country breakfast, hung out on the porch talking and then his folks took us to T-Bone’s for a great steak lunch. They took me on a driving tour around Augusta so I could see the sights, including the course where the Masters is held (didn’t see any hairy-legged feminist protestors, damn the rotten luck), the Savannah River, local points of interest like gypsy-inhabited Murphy Village, the Partridge Inn, beautiful old houses on The Hill, new houses going up along the river (beautiful - I’d like the pink one) - which I thoroughly enjoyed. Alan and I headed back around four-thirty, both because I was on doggie duty for my parents, who were in Chattanooga, and because we wanted to beat any Hurricane Frances-related rainstorms. We both had Tuesday off, so we hung out at my folks’ house where he watched me have a truly hellish allergy attack (I’m a laugh a minute). As it turned out, my folks cut their trip short because of the weather, so they arrived Tuesday afternoon armed with truffles, fudge and barbecue. We ate dinner with them and then I was finally back home. I had truly enjoyed the weekend and I’d had a lot of fun, but it was great to be back in my own bed. Plus, thanks to the sainted Miss Betty, my own bed had fresh, clean, sweet-smelling sheets on it (big woo-hoo!).
Today, back at work - I spent about half the morning crying in my office and some of the afternoon crying in my boss’s. I don’t have a bad life by any means, nor do I dislike my job, but I am just so stressed right now. I’m sick of everything that’s going on around here, and I know it’s mostly me - nothing in the way of fuckwittage is particularly different from my average day, it’s that I’m reacting to it badly. I want a break from here!!! The holiday and my extra day off didn’t really help; that is, it did while I was relaxing but it only put me that much further behind today and made me that much more frustrated and upset. I have a different set of people ‘reminding’ me, ‘nagging’ me or ‘bitching’ at me, depending on how you look at it, for every single thing on my agenda. I want out of here for a while. A LONG LONG LONG WHILE. Now, having worked all day without a lunch break and worked an extra half hour, I think I shall head homeward to cry some more.
MONTOYA DELENDA EST!
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