Sunday, we attended Linda's college graduation, and I was surrounded by youth to a degree with which I no longer feel comfortable.
Monday, I had my Rapid Transit rehearsal, which, as fun as it is, leads to a hectic evening after work to get there and a late night (by my standards) getting home.
Tuesday, I went to an HOA meeting for our building, and I met a resident who complained about everything from the garage to the garbage, the noise, the hallway, the neighbors, the carpeting. I know that I have had my moments of dissatisfaction with our place, but I left the meeting glad that I never inflicted those moments on others.
Thursday was my birthday; my parents brought their dog to us, and Grr, in his infinite excitement, peed in the house twice, his first accident in a long time. By yesterday evening, I found myself exhausted at dinner and just slightly irritable. When my mom saw a suspicious puddle in the middle of the living room floor, I was flooded with frustration but managed to keep it all inside. My family and Elliot left shortly after that, and while Sam cleaned off the dishes, I heard that inimitable sound of splashing on the floor behind me. I turned around and jerked him by the collar and said, "Grr, what the fuck?" As if he could respond, as if he meant to do it. He looked up at me with those forlorn eyes and I immediately was a horrible person:
Tomorrow, I have a day-long rehearsal with Rapid Transit in preparation for a concert we are giving in July, and Sunday begins a vacation to Vegas.
Busy. A little too much, perhaps, but it wouldn't be right for me to complain.
Besides, I'll be leaving the office in a few minutes with nothing but a park and some leftover cake standing between me and bedtime. I couldn't want anything else more.
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