Life With Father, Part LCXXXIV

So I get home this evening in a black mood. How black? Well, I sat in my jeep in the driveway for a good half hour bellowing, first from anguish, and then with rage.

Pour quoi?

One thing I won't go into. For... certain reasons. But, I realized that the numbers don't add up and I won't be able to drive down to Florida the first week of July to visit my brother and a bunch of my leather brothers along the way. I just can't afford it. Not on $10 an hour.

Poverty = Sucks.

And then, of course, there's my dad. "Why can't he be different?" was the basic gist. (jist?)

So after I had exercised myself some, the first order of business was to take the groceries inside, and take Faithful Companion for a walk.

The sky was beautiful. Everything is so lush and green. So much in bloom. Beautiful.

Then, I went back and relayed the days events to my father. And then I fixed him dinner (Monday means ham and eggs).

And then...

Well, more correctly, and now...

He and I are sitting here smoking cigars, flipping the channel back and forth betweent the Red Sox-Indians game (Go Bosox! Dave Wells on the mound! Yesss!) and Swan Lake, Tchaikovsky's ballet, Tchaikovsky being my father's second favorite composer after Hector Berlioz.

So I'm still miffed about the cancelled vacation, but overall, things are better.

---