So I rediscovered the importance of vitamins lately. Work hasn’t been trashing me nearly as badly, depression has been held at arm’s length, for the most part. Friday was a tough day; we were jam-packed, the emergencies kept coming, and we finally packed it in at 7:00 pm.
Dinner was late, because my wife had a similarly hard week, and hadn’t felt like cooking when she got home. By the time I dragged my butt in, it was underway, however, and we sat down at the table a mere two hours late.
It was beef. I hate beef. She loves it, though, so we eat it quite a bit. There was one point, as I chewed morosely on my meat, that she was chiding me for not rewriting a piece for church I’d no idea I was rewriting at the same time my son was asking his nightly question whether he would get to play City of Heroes after dinner at the same time the pug dog was nudging my leg asking for a piece of meat and I thought oh jesus this is just like work, everybody demanding something at once
Well. I didn’t scream. Maybe I should have. I’m starting to re-consider that whole it-is-better-to-be-feared-than-loved thing, as it certainly has its points.
I’ll be gone most of this weekend, shuttling my boy around so relatives may ooh and aah over him for his 8th birthday. Someone – Dave Barry, perhaps – pointed out that people stop making a big fuss over your birthday about age 12, so I should let him enjoy his golden years.
Me, I have to go punch up a mediocre “worship drama” before bed. I don’t know why this is left to me, a non-Christian, or even worse, why it is I can see how to make the script’s point more cogent (and entertaining) than the original writer, who is, supposedly, of the faith.
I’m just going shrug and chalk it up to the Big Guy and his mysterious ways. Please note I just deleted several lines of philosophy, cuz I ain’t got the time, and you likely don’t have the patience right now.
Wish me luck – I have two days and remarkably little time to regain my sanity before Monday arrives again like a mundane Mongol horde.