I should know by now: life never lets you be happy for more than a few moments at a time and the amount of shit it dumps on you is proportional to the amount of happiness you've had. This can be written as a simple equation:
AOH = 2(AOS)
Wherein you receive twice the amount of shit as happiness.
I was very happy on Friday when I finished GS but that was quickly squashed by my weekend. The insanity was . . . well, insane! I drove countless miles, talked to dozens of people whose name I didn't remember and generally played the good husband all weekend for my wife's family. Along comes Father's Day (which I spent with the wife's family because they scheduled a three year old's birthday party for this day!) and after being the kind and gracious hubby: even to the point of going to this party on what's supposed to be my day without a word of complaint:
Do I get an expensive gift? Nope (She stopped at the store to buy birthday gifts for the niece)
Do I get a cheap gift? Nope. (She stopped at another store to buy "thank you" gifts for the boy's teachers.)
Do I get a card? Nope. (She stopped at the card store for the niece)
Do I get a "Happy Father's Day"? Nope. (She sang the hell outta that "Happy Birthday" though!)
Nothing. Not one damn thing from my wife. Now, her Father got a gift (which I bought for him!) and she wished her brother, brother-in-law and every other male she saw over the weekend "Happy Father's Day" (whether they had children or not!) but does the love of my life think to pass such a simple phrase on to the man who fathered her only child? She does not. Now, I will be very honest and tell you this hurt me quite a bit. There were several ways to handle this situation (most of them bad!) but I opted for what I thought was the correct one: I went to the wife after the day was done and told her (very politely!) that I was hurt by the oversight and that I didn't think it unreasonable to expect at least an acknowledgement of the day from my wife. This of course ended with her being furious with me and screaming why it was all my own damn fault as I went to bed shaking my head.
AOH = 2(AOS)
Well, that's enough venting. The good thing was: the boy remembered me. He made a home made card for me (since mom never bothered to take him shopping) with a killer poem on it. It was really funny and very sweet all at once. He also gave me a big hug (a rarety from an 11 year old!) and wished me "Happy Father's Day" several times throughout the day. So, I guess I'm not a complete failure as a father.
On to the writing: I finished the synopsis but it still sucks. I'm rewriting it, this time trying to keep it in a voice similar to the novel itself. The first run through was too bland. It read like a list of ingredients, ya' know? I need to make it more interesting without increasing the length or losing the key points of the story. This damn thing is proving to be harder than writing the damn novel!
I planned to do some work on "Fish" today but Monday has come to piss all over my writing parade! I had 30+ e-mails, 9 phone messages, and had been hauled into two "emergency" meetings by 8:30 a.m. Then the fun really started! Lunch was killed (and my writing with it!) by a last minute seminar re-schedule that I wasn't supposed to handle until next week. (no biggie, only 1/2 the Board of Directors for the firm were there!) and I have to now re-build my entire schedule for the rest of the year to add additional training days. This should be fun. It means I will be on the road at least four (usually five) days out of the week. Fun-fun-fun!!!
I hate Mondays (whimper!)
Not to fear Loyal Reader: I shall not allow the cretins of upper management to waylay my endeavors in the mysterious realms of publishing!
Okay, time to go now: I'm getting punchy. My final thought for the day(courtesy of M*A*S*H):
"May the fleas of a thousand dead camels infest the armpits of all Mondays!"
Later!
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