Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Things have gotten complicated - and I don't really like things complicated. It's not about Alex really, he's a little bit of an adjustment, but he's a sweet little thing and I love him mucho. It's just life has gotten so damn weird since Alex's birth. My mom has gotten weird, my work has gotten weird, our neighbors have become official bastards, and I'm really missing my wife a tremendous lot. I see her probably a lot less than Alex does, just a few hours a day or so. For the past two days I've seen her maybe a total of four hours or something. And that is just making me cranky because I miss her so much.

Work is generally fine, just a few complaints but really not a real big deal at all. My mom, who previously said to forget about Thanksgiving because she's probably working, now wants to do Thanksgiving. I told her my wife was working the day and the day after, so she tells me I should ask my brother if he wanted to drive up. So I email him, and then my mom emails me tonight and says that I was too straightforward. As if there was a roundabout way to ask him if he wanted to come up for turkey.

Me on Phone: Ahh! There's a freakin' turkey running about and I think it's about to murder me! Help!

My Brother: Fend off the bird for an hour and a half - I'll drive up to save you!

TWO HOURS LATER.

My Brother (bursting in the door with a sawed-off shotgun): Let go of my brother, you wretched foul fowl!... Hey, where's the vermin?

Me: Oh, I cut his head off and stuck him in the oven for six hours at 350F. Hey, you wouldn't have happened to have drove up with your appetite, didja?

Thank you very much.

The neighbors, sigh. Don't even know how to begin. They're just college idiots. The cops say they can't hear anything outside, Ballard Management (yes, I'm aware I'm using their real name) says, well, we can't do anything since we haven't had any prior complaints, so we complain and write a letter. Now he writes us another letter saying, we need to talk to our neighbors. My wife goes over to talk to our neighbor, and he's just the biggest jerk, saying it's daytime and he has a right to be a butthole because he was born out of one. Fine. So, we can't complain, can't talk to the neighbors, can't call the cops, just have to be anywhere except our own living room because we don't want to subject ourselves to fucking Elton John or Tiffany. Stupid asses with their stupid cds. I'm this close to finding all my rap cds and hooking up all my systems facing the neighbors. ARRGHHGHGHGH!

I might be fatalistic enough to fork over some cash to either take everyone to small claims court, or just give it to the neighbors just before I destroy their stereo.

So, stress. Good seeing ya again.

We're be all right. It's just a combination of things - it's just tough to get readjusted especially after my wife and I just had such a grand old time before. We had days off together, we played a lot, and we just enjoyed life. We enjoy Alex a lot now, it's just that we'd like everything else to cooperate and just be friends. All this conflict and potential for conflict is really hardening me. I've been so grouchy and I feel bad for my wife, because she has to put up with me.

Sigh. Sorry about the angry post. I do feel a tad better.

But that could be because my wife's home!

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