The House of pain

I went to bed last night feeling bad that I hadn't made a post on Sunday. Not bad enough to get up and actually write one, mind you, but bad nonetheless.

Of course, all of my three readers would be not be disappointed as I commonly use the words, "...posting regularly soon..." only to skip a day or seven. I am all about consistency.

This morning, I am a bit disturbed over my sleep. I went to sleep watching "House" last night. This show is a recent addition to my schedule as I could never get into before. The fact that he was Stuart Little's father just kept going through my mind.

(Don't try to analyze my thought processes. It's not worth your own sanity.)

So any rate, I consciously thought last night, "You know, behind that sarcastic, narcissistic, drug-addicted front lies a man that actually has a heart. And isn't hard to look at either."

Wouldn't you know I dreamed I went out with him? And although I didn't dream the actual date, before I woke up I was waiting for him to call me again.

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Yesterday, I was asked nicely tricked coerced bribed into going and help with Project Clean Up.

The original plan was that he and the boys were camping out there Saturday night. Only, the big attraction was canceled and all the vendors were packing up and leaving after the concert. This made him nervous that not many people would be milling about. The park is located on the rough part of town. Many people that live in said neighborhood had seen him and his tent. Many of these people were also people that had stolen in his store and he had testified against in court.

You know, that old chestnut.


With that being said, he decided to come home. Which wasn't a big deal to me even though I ended up being up until 1:30. Until the alarm went off at 6:30. And he woke me up.

He needed help tearing down the tent before the guys came with the trailer. In other words, packing and organizing all the bits and pieces.

This bit of information might have been helpful BEFORE I went to sleep. You know, when I fell asleep not worrying about be up so late. As I thought I was going to sleep in and stay at home.





This interior shot taken by one of the boys doesn't even begin to show all the intricate pieces that had to be packed up. I think I have less stuff in my kitchen.

And to be quite honest, not as many people were as gone as he led me to believe on the phone. Now that I think about it, I was duped.

Figures.

At any rate, by the time everything was disassembled, large stuff on a trailer and my Malibu packed to the GILLS, we looked like the Clampett's leaving the park.

It was exhausting. On top of that, we had to go to the grocery store in search of food that I could cook that didn't involve chicken, steak, bacon, and strangely enough, smell like Tex-Mex.

Everyone must have been have having the same problem as it was crazy busy. Plus, the Titans were about to start and that is the WORST time to go to the store.

By the time we got home, it was all I could do to slap sub sandwich together and pour a Diet Coke.

That was my Sunday. Typical really.

For carnies.