I’m hunkered down for the night already (it’s only 7 p.m.). Steak, salad, glass of red wine. Exhausted from drinks with a biz colleague last night, will read I think for a bit. Snow falling outside. My bed is looking sweet.
TC is calling from London, it’s just past midnight and he can call for FREE now. It’s short. He’s semi-drunk yelling at me about some boy he’s looking at that would be “perfect for me” and that he can’t trust me and just, well, that’s it. He hangs up. OK, I’m just hoping I didn’t over cook my NY Strip.
A few minutes later, I’m about to sit down to eat, my wife is calling. All pissed off. A major snowstorm, her and the kids left to dig out the driveway and outside equipment. She’s worried the roof will cave in. She bitches on that she hopes I’m happy in my bachelor pad, no responsibilities and wants to change roles. She hangs up as well. OK, now I’m worried my food is cold.
There are simply days you can’t win for losing. I’m married twice or so it would seem. Two emotional women as it turns out. I’m going to bed. Sweet dreams.