I just received a please call me from Mother Dearest, and she never sends those, ever. So I immediately returned the call and she has informed me that she is back in ICU in hospital. The pneumonia has returned and she is struggling to breathe. Oh god I cannot go through this again, I don’t think I am strong enough to handle this right now.
She’s also complaining that they didn’t pack her shoes when they transported her to the hospital. I don’t have enough petrol in my car to drive all the way to her retirement home – 40 minutes – to fetch her shoes and then drive another half an hour to the hospital – and then another half an hour home. My gas is already on reserve and as it is I will taking a chance driving to the hospital and back [if anyone receives an SOS, it’s me … stuck on the side of the road].
But she is insisting that she needs her shoes. Has she forgotten that she cannot walk unaided? Anyway, I don’t have the heart to fight with her about a pair of shoes, so I have arranged a little advance on my littler salary to go buy Mother Dearest a pair of sandals after work so that when she’s carried to god knows where in her condition, her feet are suitably covered.
I then sent Boet a message asking him why he didn’t tell me about Mother Dearest’s return to hospital and why he was ignoring her calls, as she claims he has been since yesterday. He says that he’s busy at work. Huh? She was admitted yesterday – the home and the hospital both called him as he is listed as next of kin and he couldn’t see fit to tell anyone else, nor even call her to see how she’s doing.
For fuck sakes!!!
As I hung up the phone [I used the office phone, might as well take advantage where I can], my cellphone rang. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! My cellphone does not ring during working hours because everyone knows how insanely busy I am, and that Boss Lady does not approve of personal calls during working hours.
It’s my ex.
He was calling to confirm that we are still meeting tomorrow so that I can assist him with the writing of his father’s eulogy. And by assisting I mean I will be be writing it alone, with little time for editing as the memorial service is on Friday morning.
Anyway, he suggested that we meet for drinks to do the work. Well at least he didn’t invite me over to his place to work in his bedroom which is what he did just over a year ago when he required my writing skills for a best man’s speech. Talk about awkward.
But still, drinks with the ex. In a place that all our mutual friends [including Fabian] inhabit. Who happens to be an exact description of the man in last nights reading. He had better be a bridge to the other side, because I hear them calling me.
Oh and visiting MD this evening means no Salsa dance class for me tonight. The one and only thing I have to look forward to in my entire week.
So if you don’t hear from me by 09h00 tomorrow morning, I’ve had a breakdown. Not in my motor vehicle, but rather the mental kind. It was nice knowing you all.
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“And they lived happily ever after.”
Think about this line for a few minutes. Are you living happily ever after?
DOES IT FUCKING LOOK LIKE I’M LIVING MY HAPPILY EVER AFTER???
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