back from the shire

Today I had to come back to Boston. And today was also one of the times I cursed the fact that I live by Fenway Park. I love love LOVE the red sox. Because I love them so much, I put up with a lot of shit. It's my choice to live in Kenmore, so quite honestly I don't have a lot of basis for complaint. But today? I complained. I whined. And I basically drove my poor, patient mother crazy. This was the problem: today was supposed to be an off-day for the sox. I had planned to return today based on this fact. We'd leave in the morning, get back before noon, unpack the car, pet the kitties, then wander over to the store. I'd go to work at one and my mom would go home, happy to have seen lin and charlie, happy to have helped me hang the paintings I wanted her help with, and happy that she'd gotten to stretch her legs for 90 minutes before turning around and driving home.
Instead, we waited in traffic for god knows how long, and then waited some more. It took us 20 minutes to turn the corner onto Comm. We double-parked and my mother had to sit in the car while I hauled all the heavy stuff up to my apartment, where I was greeted by a slew of broken glass. Charlie had struck again! I left the mess, quickly changed, and ran back out to the car. It was 12:35. By the time we finally parked--20 yards down the street!--it was 12:53. We walked into the store, I went to punch-in and nearly flipped out when the time clock said "1:04 pm." I know the time clock is fast. But I BUSTED MY ASS to be at work on time, and it pisses me off that it thinks I was late. I WAS NOT LATE. My GPS cell phone says 12:57 you little bastard. The clock on the computer said 1:00 AFTER I waited for the elevator to bring me back downstairs. I WAS NOT LATE.

Lesson? I hate rain-outs and I hate the time clock. And I hate anyone who is dumb enough to drive straight into Kenmore Square on a game day. But there will be more on those people at a later time, cause I've bitched enough for one day.

My weekend really was wonderful, though. I got to see lots of old friends and the family cat, Oliver, who is just the sweetest old-man-kitty. And I got to eat a lot. I do love eating.