So I didn't make it to my deadline last night, but I do have a couple of good reasons. try one on for size and choose the one to your liking. the first is that at nine p.m. I was thinking about cleaning toilets. I didn't find this to be good blog fodder. Secondly, I had one of those "why do I know the sky is about to open up and piss on my face feelings?" I found out why at nearly midnight, right about when I was about to sit down and blog about being only three hours late.
I hate when my phone rings after 11:00 p.m.. and it is not Allison or Cara. Not because I'm crotchety and asleep. to the contrary I'm often wide awake playing xbox. Allison works graveyard and Cara just likes to call when she's coming through town and wants to blow by. Anyone else is calling because there is a problem, and if it's Mike's phone, it's nearly unheard of. So when his phone rang and flashed "mom and dad" I knew this would probably suck. It was the right weather forecast, wrong face. Right in the middle of my blissfully ignorant American Dad coma were words like chemotherapy and radiation. Fuck. They are optimistic. This is not my first rodeo. Doctors do not move that fast without reason. have you ever spent less than four hours in an emergency room? He is going to hurt, and I do not know how to help him.