Last night was weird. Good music, weird drunk people. Why is it they always find me and I have to spend half the night avoiding them?
Anyway, I was really in the mood to dance in a big sweaty sea of sexy people and ended up dancing with like 4 other people, and that was just weird.
On the way out to the car I fucking fell over NOTHING (I was NOT drunk, not even close) and today I think I sprained my ankle. Nice and swollen and purple. Lovely.
I get a call at 6:30, I giggle, thinking its Brie making sure I'm up to make it to work because I was whining about worrying about it. Wrong-o. It's my dad.
It's never a good thing to get calls this early from him, especially when you talked to him 2 days ago. Something happened, I don't know what, but now his going into a nursing home is kicked into full gear. He's telling me 2 - 4 weeks! Some place in Lake City Florida. Now he says his cousin will take him there, I don't "have to do it." HAVE TO DO IT? What the fuck? He's my DAD and I so want to be there to help him.
Last week he's talking about him coming out to Oregon to go into a home and now apparently he's staying? yes he tells me, "I'm not sure if that's where I'm going to end up yet, but here's the contact information". Then he tells me he's going to send me a little money because the nursing home will tie it all up and so I have money to fly out and see him or some shit.
I'm really upset right now, and 4 hours of sleep isn't enough for me to deal with this right now. I should be on the next plane to Florida to find out what the fuck is going on.