In a funk to be honest. Staring at the phone hoping the pharmacy calls about my pain meds before the last dose wears off. Most young men have a few decades to get their heads screwed on before they are asked to be patriarch. Time is an unattainable luxury it seems, even as I stare at days of mostly empty hours. This past Sunday we were supposed to have a family day at the Detroit Institute of Art and then dinner afterwards. I already had a busy weekend planned months in advance. In our family group chat last week, I asked a half dozen times if there was a plan or timeline for Sunday. No one ever confirmed anything other than whinging about driving, and as a result Sunday was a shitshow. I try and I try and I try to help keep my family organized and calm, and they fight me at every turn. We were supposed to be in Detroit at 11:30 AM, at 11 I got a call from one of my brothers saying he was still in Lansing looking for a new shirt for dinner, because he didn't own anything with a collar or buttons. This is just one example. I was asked once why I always say 'the boys' instead of 'my brothers.' I just sort of shrugged. I have since learned that this particular vocal tic is associated with people who were given too much responsibility (regarding the care of siblings/family) too young. This is probably why I find children on the whole so tiresome. I have already had my fill of being a parent and found myself wanting. I am going to San Francisco next week with my dad for 4 days. I want to be excited but truthfully it just kind of fills me with dread. I have never been to California. The last time I saw the Pacific I was 12 years old. We are supposed to go fishing, see Alcatraz and spend a day in the wine country. All I can think about is how much my dad hates to spend any amount of money, and how San Francisco in specific and California in general are orders of magnitude more expensive than anything he is used to. I still have not been seen at Cleveland Clinic. They have had my referral in their system for almost 2 months, and I am assured that my file has been flagged as "triple urgent" what ever the hell that means. Edit* I did a personal record on the bike yesterday. 26 miles.
It's hard finding the right travel partner(s). My mom says it's a marriage in miniature--slight inconveniences that can wear your patience, and small urgencies that can rankle your poise. It can obviously be rewarding which is why we do it, but not everyone is cut out to travel well. I wish I could say that all the mini-marriages have made me more patient and good-humored with who I travel with, but I found that I'm mainly just more picky. In fact, writing this out... Maybe it's me that's the difficult one to travel with. Ha!