Parking in the middle of the driveway

I just got home from a LONG day. Up most of last night thanks to sorting out issues with my ex. Up for a busy work day. Juggle the job and the blog and the emails and the friends and their problems. Drinks and dinner with my best friend. And now home.

Did I talk to anyone today? I know I listened. And listened. And listened. But did I talk?

Did anyone hear me?

On the way home a horn from a lowrider blew as I sat in my truck and waited for the gas to fill up my tank. I got out and said, "What's up?"

So what if I was was wearing a wifebeater. So what if I had muscles.

"Can you move already?", he says

"I'm still filling up... sorry.", I reply

I look over to see the hot black guy with mock-dreds in the lowrider, the guy telling me to move. He's blocked in because there is a huge pickup sitting next to me. He didn't see cause he didn't look.

The guy in the big pickup rolls his window down, sees what's going on, and pulls ahead to make room for the lowrider to pass. He's a really dark black guy. He didn't see he was blocking the road cause he didn't look.

The guy in the lowrider looks over to me and instead of saying "Sorry, I didn't realize" says... "We all have to get along now... we have a black president."

I look and smile and say "Ya... I know."

But what I'm thinking is... "Fuck you! I voted for him. I probably did more campaigning for him than you did! And you come talk to me when we have a gay president. Let's see if you voted for him. Fucking asshole."

But I didn't say that.

"Oh... and my ex is black. So don't go pulling some discrimination card on me. Fuck you!"

I didn't say that either.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled up to my house and started to pull into the driveway. I instinctively turned my wheel to the right to park on the right side. Leaving the right side open. But... Fuck! Don't need to do that anymore. No one is parking on that side. It's just me now. I can't wait until I can afford to get the fucking garage door opener replaced so I don't have to think about this shit anymore.

So it's off to bed now. Another day complete. Well, not quite yet...

I still have emails to answer. And phone calls to return. And house things to take care of. And bills to pay. And it all has to be done tonight. Seriously... tonight.

So I feed the dog. And I turn my computer on. And I start the end of my day. Is this what "winding down is?" It doesn't feel like it.

I'm setting a one hour limit though. An hour from now I'm taking an Ambien. An hour and 15 minutes from now I'm passing out.