I spread my dreams under your feet

2004-01-24 - 9:19 p.m.

Well, see, the plan today was to get up early and drive to Vallejo. In Vallejo we'd have breakfast, then hop on the ferry to San Francisco. Then we'd spend the day in San Francisco. See, that was the plan.

When I woke up this morning it was raining. Not hard, but raining. Then my mom told me she was sick. And that was the end of our plans. I climbed back into bed. But see, I was all psyched to get out of bed early, and going back to sleep just wasn't happening. So I got back out of bed and came out to living room where I booted up my laptop.

I wrote and posted a review of the book I finished last night here and caught up reading all the journals on my favorites list that had updated since I read last. And then it was 7:30.

I decided a little rain never hurt anyone and went out for a jog. I jogged my 5k loop in 38:03, yes, a new personal record for me on that loop--at least for this year.

Do you know what's really depressing? To be all proud of yourself because you ran so well and then having your 60-year-old father go out and run it four minutes faster. Seriously, not a happy feeling. And then he insists that if I were to run with him he wouldn't be able to keep. He ran it four minutes faster than my best time, why the hell wouldn't he be able to keep up? Why does he say stuff like that?

I spent most of the day alternately taking care of my mom, watching movies, and reading. It sucked not having my mom around to be a buffer between me and my dad. This evening he and I went out to get dinner to bring home. On the way back we were sitting at a red light. I was driving. In the next lane there was a woman in a little silver sports car smoking a cigarette. She dropped the still lit cigarette out the window onto the asphalt. My dad rolled down his window and yelled out at her...I don't even remember what he said. It was some comment about how disgusting she is because of the smoking and the littering. Then the light turned green and she drove off. I was so mad at him. I rolled his window back up from the controls on my side of the car and said, "Why'd you do that?" He answered, "Because that was disgusting. What, you don't think smoking's disgusting?" Not any more disgusting than people who hurl insults at people they've never met. He continued with many other comments about the places where people who smoke should stick their cigarettes. "You really think what you did is going to change anything?" "No, but it made me feel better." What an ass. "Oh. Well, then. As long as you feel better."