"I feel terrible that I didn't cook anything," my mother fruitlessly told me yesterday.
My father would never dare let her cook. She hasn't cooked in years nor would my father eat what she would prepare.
Dad is cooking some kind of special ribeye roast. Sounds delicious to me. Mom said she will be sure I get a plate full of food.
I talked to Charlie on the phone last night and he thinks it was a very neat thing for my father to put together.
"If he survives!" I told Charlie laughing and he laughed back.
I will take my medications once again at around 4 pm. Mom is going to call me when my father has my medications ready. I hope to sleep until at least 3 pm. I am trying to stay up to four this morning, but it is growing harder by the minute. Edit: Well, I've just made it to 3 am.
I was fixing to lament never getting invited to these soirees, but I wouldn't go anyway. I am sure a dinner party would do a number on my social anxiety. Just think of all that small talk, and with people I don't know. lol. I am recovering but I am not quite that recovered just yet. Yeah, I've got it pretty good over here at Casa de Andrew.
image credit: http://www.clker.com/clipart-13480.html
No comments:
Post a Comment