It's the Wine Talking
Why did I have this wine glass? It's been a rough 24 hrs, and the kids are at the ex's house tonight anyway. The ex has no idea it's my birthday. Those things don't matter to him; therefore, he requested kids today via a phone call last night. So I said yes, regretfully. Why? Well, I don't feel like going into it. Let's just say it wasn't a pleasant phone call, and I didn't feel like explaining que dall to him. So what did this mean? Yes, Ariana cried this am when she woke up and found out that she couldn't spend all of mommy's bday with her. Jared just was pissed he had to leave mom's side...he's a total mommy's boy. His exact words? "I wanted to go on SATURDAY!" Mind you, if it HAD been Saturday, he'd have said, "I meant NEXT Saturday!!!"
Feeling down from the previous conversation with the ex, I drove the kids to school. Ariana complained about being taken today the whole way over. My only comment was to ask her to make her father a card for his bday which is Friday.
Alex is in Columbia. My children are with their father. I'm here staring at a stack of papers I need to grade. However, considering how this one glass affected me, I doubt grading will come soon. Plus, my sister will call in a couple of hours, and that means I won't be grading anyway. We can talk for hours.
How have I entertained myself since getting home--besides the wine--you ask? Well, a sociology major from Clemson called to give me a survey! Woohoo! That'd be AFTER the glass of wine, folks. I remember laughter...lots of laughter...oh well. I'm sure giving out surveys is boring, so at least I made her night better. Typical exchange: "So that we may better classify you for our survey, in what income category should we classify you...." (me, interrupting): "I'm a teacher. Find the lowest bracket and check that one."
My cat knows I'm sad. How's that for odd? He's a very perceptive cat. He came over and licked my arm repeatedly...one grooming lick for his back, one for me...repeat. I now have a red strip on my arm that is devoid of hair due to his grooming efforts. He only does this when I'm out of it, which fortunately does NOT happen very often. It's a sandpapery tongue, and I don't need to lose skin. Hmmm...or do I? I mean, we PAY for exfoiliators. Maybe this is a free one, yes?
I have to focus on the good stuff. My kids may be gone, but they'll come back, and they'll be excited to see me. I have friends who are generous to me...even blogger friends who have NEVER met me and yet for some UNKNOWN reason are kind by listening to me ramble or sending me a gift certificate for my bday or walking money. I have students who seem to need me and listen to me. I can pay my bills. And this is a lovely glass of wine. Good, cheap wine: Linderman's Bin 50 Shiraz 2004. The 2003 is better, but near impossible to find at this point. I'd prefer a nice chateauneuf de pape, but $5 vs. $50 is a lot. Oh! And I should have a nice lunch with friends tomorrow. That's always good. It'll tide me over until I can see Alex again on Friday.
Last bit of ramble: mom told my brother Mark I was engaged. We have no feedback on his reaction. I told Ken and Rose because they have met Alex before on a number of times and communicated with him, and they love him. But Mark? Well, Mark's an impossible read. He also is difficult to talk to, period. Mark hid well that he loathed Rob; I never picked up on it. Neither did Rob. It came out the second I separated...sigh. So when Alex came along, he just bristled. He didn't think ill of him like he did Rob, from what I understand, but he just...is...suspicious. Since Mark was the sibling who beat up on me constantly as a youth--and Rose and Ken were like my extra set of parents because they acted that way and are much older than me--it seems strange. Why do my extra "parents" love Alex, and the guy who wanted me dead stares at all men anywhere near me with daggers in his eyes? He seems to get along with Alex, but he just doesn't seem to want me to be with ANYBODY. I guess I need to just realize he has "big brother syndrome" and that's that.
Oh well. Good wine, this. No more though...I need to grade!
And it's 36. I know you all are dying to ask, so as of today I'm 36. Bah.