I find myself frustrated. The other night, while I was in bed not sleeping, as is my habit, I had some really funny observations that would have made some good blog material. Knowing that I would really be chasing sleep away if I got up and jotted down what I was thinking, I decided to just commit it to memory and do something with it in the morning.
Uh-huh. That's kind of like trying to complete a reading assignment by placing the book between your head and the pillow. I need to commit to putting a notebook by my bedside so I can scribble a line or two, because as much as it pains me, I am most creative lying in bed not sleeping between the hours of 2:30 and 5:00. My normal doldrums.
One funny thing that happened which I did remember was the other night before Heather and I went out to the comedy show. Thursday before Easter, (Maundy Thursday for the 8 people in the world who know that term), Heather came in to town for a music concert. I was going to go with her, but had been traveling a lot, and my niece, Skylar was in town for her spring break. Since I wasn't really around for much of it, I elected to stay home to spend time with Em and Skylar.
Turns out, it's a good thing I did since Skylar popped a fever of nearly 103 degrees in the afternoon. Now, Em is good at a lot of things, but treating illness and ailments is not the biggest arrow in her quiver of talents. This is no bad thing and I am not putting her down. I think she would agree with me. For instance, she can't remember the difference between Tylenol and Advil, a situation made worse by the fact I require her to buy only generic drugs, so the bottles don't say Advil or Tylenol. They say Ibuprofin and Acetaminophen, (Which Em somehow thinks is pronounced Assetamoanaphone, or whatever she says).
Anyway, none of this is the point. I bowed out of the concert so I could stay home, hang with family and get some rest. Which, for the sake of telling the story brings us up to the moment the phone rang. It was Heather on the other line.
"HI BILL!" was the all-together artificially chipper voice of Heather on the line. And even though she was speaking very loudly, I was hard pressed to hear her over the din of background noise and revelry. Hearing the level of noise, I was very glad I did not go. "Say, I, for some reason, thought a shot drinking contest was a good idea. I am hanging with my new best friends, Joe, (Hertler- the guy who was performing), and his tour bus manager, (whose name I don't remember, so I shall refer to him here as Guerrero, since I like the name) and I don't think I should drive.
"OK, I said, when the concert is over, call me, I'll come get you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Sweet. I totally owe you!"
"Yes."
"I mean, are you sure, because..."
"Because, what? You are all of a sudden going to become tolerant of hard liquor and be alright to drive? Say, what time is the concert going to be done?"
"Well, they were supposed to start at 8, but nothing's going on."
"Its 9:15!"
"Dude, I know!"
"Quit drinking with the band and let them play!"
Cut to about an hour later. Skylar is peacefully in bed and I am watching the never ending car auction on Speed Channel, resigned to the fact I'm gonna be up awhile. The phone rang and I was naively thinking it was a short show and/or Heather was asked to leave and it was go time.
"HEY BILL!"
"Heather."
"Just wanted to make sure you are still cool with picking me up!"
"Yes."
"'Cause, I am in the loo and I just realized, I can't figure out how to work it. I mean..."
"Yes, Heather. Stop calling, enjoy the concert and call me when it's done."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh, not this again..."
"You are the best, dude! I totally owe you!"
"Yes."
So now it's quarter-til-one and I am just about to lose my collective stuff when the phone rings.
"HEY BILL!"
"Heather."
"I think I am okay to drive."
"$%@#$#^&, I knew you were going to say that. Well, guess what? Em and I have waited up to get you and your car back here, so you are going to go to your car and wait and we are going to pick you up!"
"Okay, good, because I really don't think I should drive."
"Then why did... Oh, forget it. Go to your car."
Click.
On the way home, Heather explained the concert did indeed get done just before midnight, but she was chillin' with Guerrero and the rest of the performers. This was information I did not need to know, but I think I managed to bite my tongue.
"Hey, is there food, somewhere?" Heather asked, one minute and twenty-three seconds after we passed the only lit building for miles, which just happened to be festooned with golden arches.
"Yes, we passed it." I said. I received no verbal reply, but instead turned to see the saddest little face I have ever seen on a human... or on Heather. "Fine, we'll go to the one on Madison."
"Dude, are you sure?"
"Quit asking me that!"
Flash to a week ahead and I was the designated driver for the comedy show. I made a joke to Em before we left and asked if she could drop us off and pick us up.
"Don't call me!" she said. "Wait, don't NOT call me... but don't call me!" Why men spend half their lives confused and the other half annoyed I'll never know. But the message was clear, even if the delivery was convoluted. Take my DD responsibilities seriously, as the alternative would be very bad for all parties involved.
So that was a long way to a finish that, as I read what I just wrote, was not worth the time it took to write, nor the effort it took to read. Now I really wish I could remember what it was I thought about the other night. You have to believe me... it was great.
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