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Let me tell you about the enjoyable evening I had last night sandwiched inbetween two cowpatty crusts.
The cute little bear who helped me found the shortlived but enjoyable Stammtisch für deutschsprachige Bären had me, Scruffy, and a mutual friend over for dinner last night. He's an accomplished home cook--IIRC, he used to work at a cookware store and met Scruffy giving or taking classes there--and thoughtful enough that he asked me last weekend what sort of menu would best suit me. (His first choice was bœuf bourguignon and I shot that down immediately.)
My suggestion of "chicken pot pie?" became chicken tikka masala. The naan was storebought, but everything else was made in house, including the paneer in the saag paneer. I made a special trip to Pak Sweets for my hostess gift. They'd already bought a blueberry pie from the local pie shop but we couldn't resist breaking into the laddoos, halwa, and gulab jamun. I didn't feel like drinking but I had to sample some of the pineapple wine they'd brought back from Hawai'i.
Over dinner, Scruffy teamed up with the cook's husband to explain the Monty Haul problem to the rest of us. While they discussed higher mathematics from opposite sides of the table, I turned to my neighbour (a low-level crush of long standing) and managed to get him to crack a smile. Afterwards, we draped ourselves on the couch and watched the host play video games with a VR helmet.
Stop reading here if you want to feel good about my life.
I left work early in order to take care of my errand before dinner, which was good because between getting home and heading out again I ended up calling Crazy Brother. He'd been on my mind most of the day and while walking home I found myself tearing up at the idea of him having to go back to the awful institution they had him in during the summer. I suddenly needed to talk to him in a way I haven't for months.
He kept me on the line for 45 minutes, which I was okay with because he was surprisingly coherent. Mom thought they'd have a better chance of avoiding the place that is "like a prison" if they brought him to the hospital first thing Friday morning but she was worried he was so paranoid about being arrested he might not hold it together till then and I was doing my best to talk him down and distract him.
Getting to the sweet shop was an infuriating serious of blunders. I made it to the stop just in time to catch the Devon bus only to find that I'd left my wallet at home. I returned with it and miraculously caught another bus within minutes only to find that my transit card had only 45¢ on it. Cursing a blue streak, I decided to simply walk the mile or so and then treated myself with a Lyft to the apartment because it was too late to make it there with the Western bus and it was starting to rain.
I paid in cash so I was able to take the 22 back. Mom messaged me to let me know that the hospital had an opening on its low-security floor so they were able to take Crazy Brother that night. I also saw that I had a "secure message" from the hospital but I figured it could wait until morning. All in all, it would have been a good evening if not for the fact that I was having some trouble unwinding, feeling a bit horny, and decided to have a wank to relax me.
It came out pink.
Suddenly I concluded that the secure message couldn't wait for the morning and wasted at least a quarter of an hour registering for their stupid-ass "secure communication account" in order to read it. What I discovered was that the reason that the nurse hadn't called me back was that she wasn't even in the office on Thursday.
Naturally I had terrible reflux from the combination of sparkling wine and spicy food. (I did my best to quietly fill up on cheese and naan so as not to offend my hosts, but I still got enough capiscum to fuck myself up.) In the morning, I had bleeding again so I messaged my boss that I'd be in late and took a long bath--which might have been relaxing if I hadn't taken Room into it and ended up crying convulsively at the end of the third section.
The nurse caught me right as I was leaving the house and was concerned enough to text to the SCM to call me--which he did right as I was on the bus and missed it. That was over two hours ago and I've been waiting for him to call back "a little later" as promised in his voicemail. Any bets on what awkward time it will be?
The cute little bear who helped me found the shortlived but enjoyable Stammtisch für deutschsprachige Bären had me, Scruffy, and a mutual friend over for dinner last night. He's an accomplished home cook--IIRC, he used to work at a cookware store and met Scruffy giving or taking classes there--and thoughtful enough that he asked me last weekend what sort of menu would best suit me. (His first choice was bœuf bourguignon and I shot that down immediately.)
My suggestion of "chicken pot pie?" became chicken tikka masala. The naan was storebought, but everything else was made in house, including the paneer in the saag paneer. I made a special trip to Pak Sweets for my hostess gift. They'd already bought a blueberry pie from the local pie shop but we couldn't resist breaking into the laddoos, halwa, and gulab jamun. I didn't feel like drinking but I had to sample some of the pineapple wine they'd brought back from Hawai'i.
Over dinner, Scruffy teamed up with the cook's husband to explain the Monty Haul problem to the rest of us. While they discussed higher mathematics from opposite sides of the table, I turned to my neighbour (a low-level crush of long standing) and managed to get him to crack a smile. Afterwards, we draped ourselves on the couch and watched the host play video games with a VR helmet.
Stop reading here if you want to feel good about my life.
I left work early in order to take care of my errand before dinner, which was good because between getting home and heading out again I ended up calling Crazy Brother. He'd been on my mind most of the day and while walking home I found myself tearing up at the idea of him having to go back to the awful institution they had him in during the summer. I suddenly needed to talk to him in a way I haven't for months.
He kept me on the line for 45 minutes, which I was okay with because he was surprisingly coherent. Mom thought they'd have a better chance of avoiding the place that is "like a prison" if they brought him to the hospital first thing Friday morning but she was worried he was so paranoid about being arrested he might not hold it together till then and I was doing my best to talk him down and distract him.
Getting to the sweet shop was an infuriating serious of blunders. I made it to the stop just in time to catch the Devon bus only to find that I'd left my wallet at home. I returned with it and miraculously caught another bus within minutes only to find that my transit card had only 45¢ on it. Cursing a blue streak, I decided to simply walk the mile or so and then treated myself with a Lyft to the apartment because it was too late to make it there with the Western bus and it was starting to rain.
I paid in cash so I was able to take the 22 back. Mom messaged me to let me know that the hospital had an opening on its low-security floor so they were able to take Crazy Brother that night. I also saw that I had a "secure message" from the hospital but I figured it could wait until morning. All in all, it would have been a good evening if not for the fact that I was having some trouble unwinding, feeling a bit horny, and decided to have a wank to relax me.
It came out pink.
Suddenly I concluded that the secure message couldn't wait for the morning and wasted at least a quarter of an hour registering for their stupid-ass "secure communication account" in order to read it. What I discovered was that the reason that the nurse hadn't called me back was that she wasn't even in the office on Thursday.
Naturally I had terrible reflux from the combination of sparkling wine and spicy food. (I did my best to quietly fill up on cheese and naan so as not to offend my hosts, but I still got enough capiscum to fuck myself up.) In the morning, I had bleeding again so I messaged my boss that I'd be in late and took a long bath--which might have been relaxing if I hadn't taken Room into it and ended up crying convulsively at the end of the third section.
The nurse caught me right as I was leaving the house and was concerned enough to text to the SCM to call me--which he did right as I was on the bus and missed it. That was over two hours ago and I've been waiting for him to call back "a little later" as promised in his voicemail. Any bets on what awkward time it will be?