This three-day-weekend, our little threesome had intentions of being out of town. Moments before we hit the highway, it became apparent that I had some work I could not put off another day. I told Leo I needed to stay home to get my work done, and now here I am. I am home alone, trying to get my work done, while Leo and Q are several hours away by car, enjoying a Daddy-Daughter weekend.
I feel like I'm doing an all-nighter to finish a paper, a common scenario for me during my academic career. If I finish soon, I can get in my car and meet up with them, as inefficent as that seems. They're at a new hotel and have already called to tell me all about it and yes, I suffered stabs of jealousy and self-pity as I listened to Q gush about their room.
My work is boring. My work pays our mortgage, our car loans, the electric bill, etc. I am both grateful and frustrated that I have this job. I am bored out of my mind. In fact, I am broken. I do not work. I do not work right, not the way I used to. But work I must. What a whiney-heiney I am!
The Place Where All the Fun Happens
4 hours ago