As I write this I have ten sixteen and seventeen year old boys downstairs celebrating Sasquatch's birthday. There are televisions set up with video games and my dining room table is surrounded by Magic players. If I had a dollar for every bag of chips and containers of french onion dip scattered through my kitchen, I could retire.
The lingering smell of the "sewage leak" in my basement is much diminished, partly due to my spending one of the more unpleasant hours of my life dealing with it. I'll write more about this when I'm strong enough, but in the meantime here are the two most relevant facts about this very unexpected surprise.
#1. I may not have cried at work once during my entire separation/divorce, but I sure did today.
#2. I nominate our friend Kevin as Man of the Year. And on his much deserved award will be engraved the words that melted my heart today..."I'll take care of it". Or "I'll be right there". Take your choice. Nirvana. I don't care how independent or self-sufficient you are, a man who can take care of business - out of the goodness of his heart no less - is worth his weight in platinum. Nominations are closed. We have a winner.
And this was Day One of three at work. It's a good thing I bought beer yesterday.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 12:02 AM