Randomly Friday

While watching “Cops” and hoping the phone won’t ring again with another relative telling me another horror story:

Whatever remaining childhood was left in your world disappears instantly as you start comparing ~~nursing homes~~ continuing care facilities for your mom.
Realizing that you’re probably going to be the one making the entire decision, without even much input from your dad, does in fact make it worse.
Ice cream doesn’t make it all better. But it doesn’t hurt, either.
Speaking of childhood, Rob Ford, alleged mayor of Toronto, is acting like a spoiled, pouting eight-year-old and I feel it is my duty to make sure that Americans start laughing at him as much as (I hope) Canadians are.
Speaking of Toronto, this is an interesting blog that I found, oddly enough, through an article about DC.
Disturbing statement I just heard on TV: “I could totally go to sleep with this thing around my neck.” (I think it was a commercial for some kind of pillow.)

I’ll try to get back to rock and roll en français soon since I seem to do that better than anything else lately.

In case you had any doubt

A healthcare system that requires you to go before a magistrate and swear out involuntary commitment papers and then have her picked up by the police in order to get an 81-year-old woman some emergency help is certifiably fucking broken.

Yes, I have other things on my mind right now but I wanted to get this down while I’m still in “pissed off” mode. God only knows what emotion comes next.

Another Friday night

And so ends one of the most exhausting and heartbreaking weeks of my life.

There have been so damned many contenders over the past year or so that it’s really going to be hard picking a winner. But I’ll get right on that after I get about twelve more hours of sleep.

Seriously, though, the past year has reminded me that I have some really good friends. And I’m very grateful for that.

Back to normal?

Or back to work, at least.

The week from hell now being more or less over, my mom is in a facility in High Point awaiting a possible move to one closer to home. My dad is coping as best he can; I think I underestimated how much of an effect this would have on him. And I’m back at my desk with a pile of deferred work, thinking that after two miserable Christmas seasons in a row I’m pretty much ready to say “the hell with it” as far as the holidays are concerned from here on out.

But I’ll make this valiant effort anyway, even though my heart ain’t in it:

All that said, I’m generally feeling better about life than I was a few days ago. Actually having gotten some sleep helps a lot, as does not worrying about what “Mom crisis” I’ll be confronted with his morning–or worse, at 10:00 tonight. I even found myself happily singing along with some BB Brunes song last night on the way home from visiting her–even though I had no earthly fucking idea what I was singing (my French is rusty). I also started on something else rather positive last night that I shan’t mention just now.

So there’s hope.

Note to everyone who’s emailed, texted, and called over the past few days: Thanks. It’s really been nuts and I haven’t had time to acknowledge everyone yet, but I really do appreciate it.

I am excited at the prospect of actually having a weekend next weekend.

Wednesday afternoon

When confronted with an impending unpleasant evening and bad mood, never underestimate the curative power of some inappropriate lunchtime conversation with your coworkers followed by some Petula Clark.