I am in serious depression. I am thinking of becoming an alcholic to deaden the pain. How and when did this sort of thing start happening to me?
So let me start with telling you about my weekend. It started with picking up my Grandson Xavier on Friday afternoon to go shopping for a new bike for his birthday. We picked out a bright red 6 speed with matching helmut. He and I then went for a ride around the seawall to Granville Island. We had a great time and he seemed to really like it. He is now an 8 year old delight. I thought the time flew by with my own children but the grandkids seem to be on some sort of fast-forward.
After a Saturday afternoon spent on a soccer field watching Xavier's game, I headed to the grocery store to stock up on the necessisties of life. Some stupid broad (I use that term loosly as technically it was hard to tell), decided it might be fun to turn right from the left turn lane nearly taking out my front bumper while heading into the parkade. Said Broad then proceeded to wind down her window to yell at me for having the nerve to be in the right lane where apparently I wasn't just a second before her decision to turn. To top off her indignity, I am apparently a heartless creature with no concern for our planet since I choose to drive a gas guzzling pig of a polluter which is an affront to her personally. I seemed to have made her madder when I started to laugh and point at her Escalade.
Sunday started off nice. I spent the early part of the afternoon watching Rae, my 4 year old granddaughter play her final game of Tim Horton's Tim Bit's soccer. I always enjoy watching her play. She is a very serious player who goes all out and is funny as hell. She hasn't quite gotten the concept yet that someone will be trying to take the ball from her and she isn't at all sure she likes that part.
If you are wondering when the depression set in...keep reading. After the game, I rushed to my friend Monica's home for a promised wonderful lunch. My GOD that woman can cook! I ended up having to unbutton my jeans halfway through the meal. Monica had invited a friend of hers to join us for lunch. After a couple of glasses of wine and so much food, we were sitting in the living room enjoying good conversation when out of the blue....I was blindsided. I didn't see it coming at all. Not even sure how it happened. "So, he says" you're 58 right?" What the hell? 58? I look 58? Who said I was 58? First the snotty kid at 7-11 a couple of weeks ago offers to sell me a seniors bus pass and now this guy thinks I am 58 years old? He tried to qualify it by saying I looked good for 58. Well, DUH, I look good for 58. I wanted to say the reason I look good for 58 is because in reality I am 88 you nimrod!
I have decided I am no longer saving for a cruise - it is a full-out face lift, boob job, tummy tuck and butt lift.
Perhaps I need to look at my job. Obviously, since working for this firm it has aged me dramatically. I'll bet that if I worked for Disneyland or even McDonald's I wouldn't have aged this fast. At Disneyland I could wear a costume and at McDonalds the grease from the fryer would make my skin at least look shiny.
I have a very busy week coming up. Hopefully it will keep my mind off the fact that I am depressed and in need of putting my name on a wait list for 'the home'.
On the upside, I do have two dates coming up this week with two different men. I guess I am going find out what a trampy 58 year old looks like.
Will keep you posted.