DB

Not double shredded.

But, Douche Baggery.

In my continuous lack of thorough thinking, I selected the wrong half day Friday schedule at work. (Summer hours). WE had two options, I missed the apparent deadline to make a selection, then was given an opportunity to pick one. I quickly scanned the calendar and realized that I would have had to already be working OT this week to select group A. I already have vacation scheduled for one of the Group B Fridays. Group A would mean an extra half day for the July 4 holiday weekend. I decided TOO quickly.

I selected Group B. Suki's Birthday falls on a Group A Friday. I could have had a longer July 4th weekend and I apparently think more highly of my friends, than I do of my best friend and partner for life.

I was made aware of my Db-ery in a succinct phone call this morning. Does this mean that I cannot take days off as vacation? No.

If I had selected Group A, what would the phone call have been like?

Either way, I made a horrible decision much too quickly. One that I hope someone can realize was unintentional.

Today was going well, until that point.

In other news, my dearest mother is laying one of her fantastic guilt trips on me. We did not visit her on Mother's day, and apparently this means that the next time she sees her grandkid he'll be graduating High School. She has plans for the next two weekends, which puts any potential get together into JUNE!!! Sorry our schedules don't coexist all the time.

And speaking of DB's, Suki has conversed with my absent father. He would like to meet in June, his other son, whom he actually knows is visiting him in RI for his birthday. Too soon to make those plans, although I would like to know my other half to some degree. Why should he get a birthday gift? The last contact I had from him was 23.5 years ago. I received a birthday gift. Other than that he was someone who couldn't support his offspring. Skipped out on Alimony and child support. Regardless of the conditions of my parent's relationship demise, he bailed on me.

Things that may have seemed difficult are now even more so. Strained. Estranged. Awkward. Emotional. I suppose I should be ready to meet him. I suppose it should have happened much earlier in my adult life.

But, there is a voice in my head that says, he's not allowed to be a grandfather to my son, until he is a father to me.

Perhaps DB-ery runs in the family.

I suppose sometime soon I should know.

Posted from the doghouse.