So Evan picks this morning to fall asleep after he's taken his shower. I have a second alarm @ 6:30 to make sure he's up. So he waits until I turned that one off, went upstairs to get dressed, and fell asleep. I woke up again @ 7:12. 9 minutes after the bus would have come.
I don't always remember if he's actually gotten out of the house in the morning, even if we've had a conversation. But I saw his shoes and backpack so I knew he was still here.
I went upstairs, yelled at him, got a little satisfaction from seeing him do his full body OMGWTF? reaction and got dressed myself.
Him - I can be absent today.
Me - No you can't. (BTW, I got his latest report card on Friday and it's even worse than the last one.)
So as I drove around to take him to school, I noticed that our apartment complex has that "Slow Death in Family" sign.
Maybe it's my sick sense of humor, but every time I see that sign, I think "Oh, so someone had a long and lingering death there." I never think "I should show down as a sign of respect for the dead person who doesn't even know I'm on this road."
Reason #871 that The South is stoopit is pulling over to the side of the road for a funeral procession.
I never saw that shit in Maryland. I don't remember my father's funeral procession stopping traffic. And how do we know that everyone with their lights on is in that procession anyway? So many people have their lights on all day every day.
My face hurts.
My knee hurts where The Boy hit me with a fucking cane (allegedly accidentally)
I didn't want to get out of bed @ 7 am.
These cigars that I'm smoking meet my oral fixation need, but they don't taste as mentholly fresh as a cigarette.
I can probably find some more reasons to be irritated if I think about it.
But I won't.