Hard.

Ya know.

We all work hard.

We all work late.

We fuckin’ bust our asses.

But there’s times when it becomes maybe too hard, maybe too much.

Miss Carol had another cutover at the hospital this weekend and I was gonna make dinner tonight and tomorrow night so’s all she’s just gotta do is come home, have a cocktail, and eat, and sleep.

After doin’ what I had to do today I went through a couple a cookbooks, decided on some cool stuff to make for dinner, and shopped and was all, like, locked and loaded and ready.

And then Miss Carol calls at 8:30 tonight and tells me it’s gonna be a while longer and maybe we just try the dinner thingy tomorrow and do I mind?

*big pause, deep breath*

Whatever.

So I put everything away and turned down the music, and went to bed.

It’s hard.