Time for my Sunday Rant. I’m going to use this time to write really whatever I want to. My objective is to get out whatever might be bugging me from the previous week. It will sound like bitching, I’m sure. That’s the point. I want to rid my system of the bitch so I can focus on more important things. Mainly my writing. So if you want to read this, be prepared for some griping. I won’t apologize for it.
This last week I’ve been sick. It hit me Monday night and kept me down till around Thursday. Shitty for me because it interrupted my new running regiment. I went good for a week, then thought it smart than to try to run while expelling loads of glow-in-the-dark green slime. I’m sure my lungs appreciated it, but my body is swearing at me now that I’ve picked up the running again. I had this voice that accompanied me during my thirty minute run/walk. It went something like this:
What the hell is this?!? I played along that first week when you got this running bug up your ass. Then I conveniently got you sick to show you how much better it is to just lounge around, and this is how you repay me? That’s some fucked up gratitude. I hope you like the idea of dying in the gutter from an asthma attack, ‘cause you know where this is leading. Dead, alone, miles away from you house all because you thought it’d be good to get in better shape…
That went on for the first twenty minutes or so. Then I think that voice got too tired to complain anymore. With luck that voice will cut out sooner and sooner until eventually giving way to the inevitable. I’m going to live a healthier lifestyle. I’m going to make sure I live long enough to properly annoy my wife, pester my kids,walk my daughters down the aisle, console my son when he discovers what married life with children is really like, and everything else a good long-living father and husband should do.
This getting sick this is so inconvenient. Through a new feature on Facebook, I’ve learned that exactly two years ago I posted a status update where I complained about be sick. That’s creepy. Makes me wonder if I have an internal clock with a sick alarm that’s set to go off every year around the second week of August. If so, I need to figure out how to reset it.
On some up news, my oldest daughter finally found herself a summer job. Better late than never. She’s been broke all summer and needs money to get all of her college goals taken care of. I know I’m the bad father, not having a college fund set aside and all that. I didn’t, so move forward already. No use crying about something I can’t go back and change. The store won’t officially open till the end of this month, but I’m unsure when her first day will be. I have a feeling it’ll be fun for her. I hope she likes it there. I’m not disclosing the location. She needs some peace of mind while she learns the ropes. Safe to say though, once she’s got the swing of it, I’ll organize an outing filled with all the people I know embarrass her to the hilt, be on the look out for an invite. (Love you, Honey!)
A dad’s job is never done.
I think that’ll do for this week’s rants. I’ll bottle the rest up and let the cork fly next week. Thanks for sitting through that.