At the King's Place

I've spent the day in the car with my parents. It was hell!

(1) I think I have mild claustrophobia.
(2) My Dad's driving drives me insane.
(3) I was sad because in a few hours I wouldn't see them for a long time.

But then we had Five Guys and that made everything better...momentarily. Then I got heartburn. Now my heart is broken and it's burning. This blows.

My Mom cried when we exchanged goodbyes. I didn't want her to see me cry. Frankly, when people cry, I get this shit-eating grin on my face. Not because I'm happy, but because I get shit-eating grins when I'm uncomfortable. This usually doesn't help the situation. The more uncomfortable I am, the bigger the shit-eating grin.

But I didn't want to be uncomfortable too long -- with my Mom crying and all -- and there was a snow advisory, so I ushered them out. We said our goodbyes, exchanged hugs, kisses, etc. It still doesn't feel real. Not in the least bit. Maybe tomorrow or Friday or Saturday or Sunday or sometime in the future, the reality of all this will hit me in the face like some monkey shit.