I am mid-way thru a bottle of red wine, so I apologize if my writing is less stylish or grammatical incorrect than usual (the 5th grade being my senior year). What a day. First off, thank you, Jeff for your kind comments. You must be a lawyer, your comment had more disclaimers than a package of fireworks. But they were good comments, heartfelt ones, a valued reader and an Internet friend.
I’m on a 9 a.m. conference call this morning when WeatherBug chirps that the ice age cometh to DC. I throw all kinds of stuff in my bag (6 pairs of underwear, 1 pair of socks, 14 dress shirts and an entire bottle of lube) and head towards the airport. I’m gonna get the f out of here. First, I need to take care of ‘Fishy’ my beloved Betta fish.
Where is Fishy? Well, Fishy decided to go AWOL and jumped out of his tank last night and is dead on the floor. A classic case of failing to think thru the consequences of your actions. Not helping is that Single in the City (who was previously so cute) is telling me that Fishy committed suicide, ironically, TC is advising that ‘Fishy’ had felt the stress between us and jumped. The similarity between these two scares me daily. No matter, toliet flush, no more Fishy.
I’m in the car, enroute to the airport, on the phone with my #1 investor half asleep in Beverly Hills, CA. “Put me on the next flight to Paris, I’m on the way”. F*cking Virginia drivers, the roads are clear but they maneuver like there is 18 inches of snow on the ground. Bunch of farmers all of them with PhD’s, UVA my ass. A few minutes later, I slow down, “They’ve canceled all flights to Europe, United is shutting down Dulles, nothing in or out, you’re f*cked”. Shit, I u-turn it.
Back home I have to contend via Skype with my brown puppy, literally crying on video, there is now a real risk I won’t make it to Paris. It’s a sight I can’t take. I’ve trained him well. Throughout all of this, TC has never said he was coming back to DC. Never. He knows he needs to grow up. It’s not going to be pretty. I want to protect and take care of him every step of the way. Deep down I’m not sure he’s capable of taking care of himself. I fear for him often. A sweet but misguided soul, it calls out to the sentential in me, to protect and serve.
The day wears into evening, United canceling most Dulles flights tomorrow. TC has called multiple times. The last, he’s in the apartment’s tiny bathroom within sight of the London Eye. He balances his Mac on his knees as he kisses me good night via webcam, his roommates fast asleep in their rooms. He’s my puppy, I love him with all my heart, I’m not sure there will be another quite like him.
Screw it. I’ll get there. 90210 on the phone. United believes they’ll be in service on Thursday night for the run across the pond to the land of nasty people (France). There is 6 biz class seats left but 30 oversold in the back. United not sure what they’re going to do. I hate landing and going straight to a meeting, but for TC, I’ll do it.
It is indeed a Mad Mad Mad World.
Note: If you don’t know this movie, please email me, you’re likely perfect age for me!