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Howdy stranger.
In a quintessential me moment, I approached the father of the groom at my cousin-in-law Kristen’s wedding and said, “congratulations, I’m married to a cousin of the bride so I’m virtually no relation whatsoever, but I wanted to wish you congratulations anyway.” You ever notice that when uncool people try to be cool they come across as an ass instead?
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Waiting.
Wednesday was my last day at work before leaving for vacation. Wednesday was also my birthday. I was supposed to work a regular full day at the office, and I had every intention of doing so. I got there in the morning and started plugging away, getting a phenomenal amount of work done. I was a working fool. Then I started to tire. Things started slowing down and I was more easily distracted. It was getting harder and harder to focus. I looked at my watch. It was 1:30 p.m. I struggled on. The agony of trudging on accumulated like water in a rain gauge. I looked at my watch again. It was 2:30 p.m. Despite the accumulated agony, I resolved to work out my time. I had not asked for the time off ahead of time and I figured it was the right thing to do to work through the pain, to take one for the team. Then Cheryl called. To be more specific, she called from home. You see, she had decided to leave work early because she was having a hard time working out the afternoon. My resolve disappeared like a box of Jello Pudding pops in my mother’s refrigerator. After hanging up with my wife I walked into my boss’ office and sat myself down without a word. He asked me if there is anything in particular that I want and I replied that I was suffering. He asked why and I told him that I was having trouble working out the afternoon, it being the day before I left on vacation and the afternoon before my birthday party. This is where a little bit of guilt goes a long way. You see he had forgotten to wish me a happy birthday. Five minutes later I was walking out the door, on my way to my car and a weeks worth of occupational freedom.
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Vacation vs School.
Unfortunately, our trip conflicts with school. After a prolonged battle concerning whether it was wise to have Beth out of school for so long, we’re going anyway. I’ll just say that I lost. It’s not because I don’t want to go. I’m dying to go. I’m just worried about the precedent this sets. I want Beth to know that school is our top priority. So what do we do two months into her first year of school? We pull her out of school for almost a week for a trip to New England. I feel like a terrible father.