PSA: The Typical Colonoscopy Procedure

My colonoscopy procedure

After I taught the class, rushed back home where my sitter was watching the kid.

Me: Papa’s gonna be in the back doing…stuff.
Him: Can I watch?
Her: (laughing) I don’t think your dad wants you to see.
Him: To be fair, I don’t want *anyone* to see – or hear – what’s about to happen.

What I had to do was drink TWO liters of a pretty gross laxative – I opted for the “lemon flavoring,” I can only imagine how gross it is without it – which I had to consume a cup at a time every ten minutes starting at 9:30.

Now, I was supposed to have done this at 6:30PM, because my procedure was scheduled for 10:30AM the following day.

But, like I said, I already agreed to teach the class, so 9:30 was the earliest I could get things going.

Having said that, after the third cup, things happened pretty quickly, and it took a solid two hours for things to slow down.

That’s not the worst of it, though. You’re supposed to get up five hours before your procedure to do it yet again.

Yup, FOUR liters of laxative for this bright-eyed boy in eight hours.

Had to start at 5AM so I wouldn’t have an accident dropping off the kid in the AM. So, from 5AM to 7AM, it was yet more grossness.

Now, I probably coulda skipped the second round because of my intermittent fasting. See, the last time I had solid food was Sunday night at 6:30PM while my procedure was set for 10:30AM on Tuesday.

Got the kid to school ok, then went home to basically chill for an hour before I made my way to the place, which was on the Upper East Side, near the where the Counselor and the Blue Jean Eyed girl lived.

From the time I walked in the door to the time I left, was almost exactly 50 minutes. Legit.

        • I walked in at 10:28.
        • I was on the table at 10:42.
        • They started doing stuff at 10:46.
        • They finished at 10:53.
        • I was conscious at 10:58.
        • I was up by 11:05.
        • I was out the door by 11:18.

Honestly, the smoothest procedure I’d ever been part of.

Although you probably couldn’t tell with this shot the nurse took of me after I came to.

Not my most flattering shot. But it pretty accurately represents how I felt at that moment.

And, because of alla Alison’s hell, my dad’s, and my own clumsiness, I’ve been part of more procedures than anyone in their right mind would wanna be part of.

Walking out the door, I felt ok enough to just take the train back.

My brother just happened to be in town that day and offered to pick me up, but I declined.

Gotta tell you, there was something oddly and sadly fitting about going home alone after this procedure and thinking of how Alison went to get me the first time around.

Been in my head a lot lately causea the holidays but it’s not been all bad.

Before Alison and my dad got sick, I just happened to be doing a lotta reading into stoicism and the idea of amor fati, or loving fate.

It’s essentially accepting one’s fate.

I’ve been fighting everyone’s fate – including my own – for so long now that I’m tired and am ready to just slow-drown in my life.

Emphasis on slow

Him: Are you ok, papa?
Me: OK’s a relative term, kid.
Him: Thank you for coming home and not dying.
Me: (fuck) I’ll always come home to you, kid. Dontcha ever worry about that. I’ll drag myself home to you if I have to, always.
Him: Promise?
Me: Pinky-swear. Always.

Location: home, with a tumbler of rum
Mood: def not sober
Music: boy, I believe in us (Spotify)
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My second colonoscopy

So much different from my first

Got a message from Chad the other night.

Him: [I’ve got the flu.] Would it be possible for you to teach class tomorrow night?
Me: Sorry to hear that. OK.

I’ve actually covered class a couple of times in the past, so that part was fine – kinda fun, I gotta say, because I got to focus on some things that I both really like and need to work on.

What I messed up in, though, was that I scheduled my second colonoscopy for the very next day and had to be up at 5AM doing god-awful stuff to myself.

So, I went in, taught the class, rolled around, and bolted as soon as I could get off the mats and shower.

Her: You did a good job.
Me: You think?
Her: (nodding) That’s one of my favourite moves and you explained it well.
Me: Thanks! That means a lot to me. I appreciate the vote of confidence.

If you’re a long-time reader, you know that I got a colonoscopy almost exactly eight years ago.

Alison made me orange jello.

Don’t remember much about the first time except that she came to pick me up. See, when you have a procedure under anesthesia, you’re required to have someone pick you up.

I remember that Alison took a half-day off from work and came to get me. Didn’t tell you any of that part because it was a such small thing about our day-to-day life.

Had no idea that day that she would be dying less than a year later.

Who the fuck would ever think such a thing?

I didn’t tell you that when she opened the door, she had the widest smile when she saw me.

With the exception of my son, don’t think anyone was ever that happy to see me ever in life.

She thought I was greatest thing and I thought she must have self-esteem issues to think that she couldn’t do better than a fella like me.

Don’t remember what she said when she saw me. I’m sure it was something like, Are you ok, honey?

But I remember that smile. I loved it so.

I remember I was still dazed from the anesthesia and when she came in –  despite our being together for years by that point – thought I was the luckiest guy on the planet that such an important, smart, and pretty girl would take time outta her busy day to pick a nobody like me and make sure I got home ok.

Ah, fuck.

I’ll finish this tomorrow.

I hate the goddamn holidays…

 

Location: home, putting up a Christmas tree and trying to forget things
Mood: sober for now
Music: don’t wanna see what I’ve seen (Spotify)
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Thanksgiving 2022

Getting hustled

This year was kinda different but also kinda the same.

The NFL player invited me over for a party that he was throwing for his friends and family, and it’s so close to my pad that I couldn’t say no.

The issue was that – for better or worse – there were cops just everywhere because they live right on Central Park West and there were huge crowds of people trying to watch the balloons inflate.

Officer: Sorry, you can’t go this way.
Me: (holding up a bottle of whiskey I brought as a gift) I’m heading to a party at that building over there, though.
Him: (sighing) Go ahead, sir.

Honestly, I’m gonna start wearing a suit and bringing a bottle of whiskey everywhere now.

It was a really fun night because there were actually a lotta 30-somethings there that were friends of his kids.

Mainly, though, it was really well catered and I’m a sucker for good food.

Him: These sliders are amazing.
Me: You don’t have to tell me twice. (grab a few)
Him: (looking at me) Are you only eating one of the buns?
Me: (sheepishly) I’m cheating on my no-carb diet but only partially.
Him: (pause) I’m going to do that too.

Sweeeeeet.

He even had a bartender.

Me: Wait, you have the aged Captain Morgan? No one ever has that.
Him: Well, we do. How do you want it?
Me: On the rocks with a slice of orange, please.

This was pretty much me most of the night; I don’t think most people noticed me stuffing my fat face non-stop. That’s the hope, at least.

It was late when I left and I offered to walk the NFL Player’s daughter to catch a cab.

Her: Thanks for walking me.
Me: Heck, it’s the least I could do, considering how much I ate.

Then, the kid and headed over to my in-laws to get Thanksgiving with them.

My brother was in town but I just hate the thought of my in-laws not having Alison over the holidays.

I know how much it wears on me so I can only imagine how it affects them.

It was always her favourite holiday because she got to spend it with her family and I would spend it with mine.

We only spent 2014 and 2015 together but that just makes me sad so I’ll move on.

In any case, I feel that, if Alison can’t be with them, the kid will be as a second-best option.

I’m just there as the kid’s chauffer but it’s fine because the food’s always killer.

I swear the kid hustled me with Uno.

Him: Uno!
Me: You’re kidding me.
Him: Nope! See… (shows me)
Me: (grumble)

There was a lotta pie, alla which I ate but I didn’t take any pictures.

Went home that night while the kid stayed there.

Had some things I needed to take care of and we’ll leave it at that.

I still hate the holidays but it hurts a bit less these days.

Suppose it’s just time. Or the rum. Maybe both.

Probably both.

Location: home, after a fun night at the gym
Mood: hungry again. I’m always hungry
Music: Oh, what can I say? I’m survivin’ (Spotify)
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A birthday party at the gym

I’ll sing it to you

I texted/emailed the parents of the kids that I knew were coming from the UWS and told them that there were no trains running then took the only train down to Columbus Circle, the stop before the last stop, which was W. 50th.

So did pretty much everyone else on that train.

Columbus Circle was a madhouse.

A complete madhouse.

Could barely make it down the stairs and ended up not being able to get on the first two trains down and caught the third train, the D train.

What I didn’t realize – cause I never take the D train – was that it didn’t stop at 14th Street, instead, I ended up going to W 4th Street, 14 blocks and one avenue from where I needed to be.

Mind you, I’m lugging three enormous bags of toys, food, and miscellany this whole time.

Tried hailing a cab for a few minutes but there were literally none to be found. Not much traffic anywhere at all.

I’m guessing that (a) it being Sunday and (b) the water main break, meant that most people on the west side were stuck wherever they were.

So, with his party scheduled to start in about 30 minutes, I started hustling.

Ran just two blocks when I realized that I was along a bus line and turned around to see if I could see it.

In the first bit of good luck, I saw a bus headed my way so I flagged it down.

Me: (breathlessly) Do you go up to West 18th?
Him: Yeah, way past that.

Sitting down, I looked at the time and saw I only had 25 minutes to set everything up. Like…everything. In fact, I thought the kid and my friend might be there.

It took less than 10 minutes to get to 18th but I leapt off the bus anywho and ran to my gym. I was the first one there – which was good since I had the keys – and quickly started putting everything together – the table, the gift bags, the toys and games, etc.

My buddy that brought his kid and my kid came at 11:50, 10 minutes before the party was to start.

Him: I’m sorry, mate. We ended up hopping a cab and…
Me: No worries. I just got here a few minutes before you.

Since he and his wife brought the food and I set up the table, they set up all the food, while I did the drinks and gift bags.

It was a hurried affair – I later realized that I never set up the piñata nor handed out all these other toys that my MIL set up.

And I was so rushed for the next hours running the party and trying to keep everything running that I didn’t end up taking any pics.

Zero.

Luckily, my friends did, including RE Mike, who showed up with his kid.

Me: Man, I didn’t take any pics…
Him: I took a ton. I’ll send you them.

The kids had a grand time. Essentially, we played two out of the 10 games I planned to play.

Me: I’m think of just letting them run wild around the gym while I day-drink.
Him: I think that’s a better idea than trying to stop them from playing their own games.
Me: Thank god, I’m having a beer…or three.

The guys I ordered the pizzas from were so professional; they were train on time, the pizzas were hot and delicious, and the cupcakes I got the kids were a hit.

Him: You did a really good job, man.
Me: Did I?
Him: (shrugging) No one got hurt, there’s food left over, and the kids are disappointed it’s over. That’s a success.
Me: Sweeeeet.

My buddies took my kid back so I could focus on cleaning up the place.

Seven hours after everything started, I was done.

Me: Did you have a fun time, kid?
Him: Yes! (thinking, sadly) I have to wait a whole ‘nother year before I get another birthday party.
Me: (laughing) Thank goodness for that. (gently) It’ll be here before you know it, kid.
Him: I wish mommy was here. She could sing me “Happy Birthday.”
Me: (sighing) You and me both, kid. You and me both. But, I’ll sing it to you.

Like I said, the hours drag but the years keep sprinting away.


Here’s to the good days, to the bad days
To the breakups and the birthdays
Here’s to the best days, to the worst days
‘Cause I know that [we]’ll be okay

Location: home, heading straight to bed now that I’ve been poked and prodded all day
Mood: fulla food so, fat and happy
Music: You can’t feel the sun without the rain (Spotify)
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Oh wait…I’m me

Well, of course

Speaking of childhood nostalgia, when I was kid, the closest I got to a birthday party was my mom would pick up some Entenmann’s cake, tell me to invite three kids over and we’d have a party for an hour.

They do things differently in 2022 Manhattan.

Here, I go to kids’ birthday parties that are significantly better than anything I have now as an adult. In fact, last year I essentially spent it alone and will most likely do that again this year.

But the kid’s lost enough, I think.

So, I wanted him to have a nice party and planned to have a big thing at my gym with the help of Pez, his regular sitter, my sister-in-law, and my mother-in-law.

Plus…45 kids.

I waaaaaaay over-booked. But I was in it. So, I ordered seven pizzas, a cake, a ton of toys, a ton of games, etc…you get the picture.

Was totally stressed out over it when I got a call from my MIL the night before, who had him that weekend and was gonna bring him over on Sunday.

Her: Well, of course, he has a fever.
Me: What?!
Her: Yeah. 103.
Me: (sighing) Well, of course.

Should mention this pic is my brother taking the temp.

Scrambled to tell all the other parents that bought gifts and were planning the day around this party. Everyone was a sweetheart about the whole thing.

My SIL took care of a lot of it and I felt terrible but she simply said, “Kids get sick, what are you gonna do?”

Of course, the boy was super upset. So, I promised him that I’d throw him some sort of replacement party. There was only one weekend that could possibly work – Sunday, November 20th – and out of 45 kids, eight could make it.

Him: Just eight?!
Me: Kid, I didn’t have eight friends in my life until I was college.

Had way more stuff than necessary but, having said that, what could go wrong?

Oh wait…I’m me.

Wake up that day and bring the kid over to some friends that agreed to bring him and some food down for me so I could haul THREE ginormous bags of stuff to the gym and I hop onto the subway.

Dashing downstairs, I miss a train and wait six minutes for the next train. I hop on and wait.

And wait.

12 minutes later – which, in subway time, might as well be a day – the conductor says, “Because of a burst pipe on Canal Street, there is no downtown service on [this train line].”

Well…of course.

While I decide what to do, the conductor comes on again and says that they’ll go as far as West 50th Street but no further.

And that makes sense because there musta been a billion trains behind us and they had to start getting these trains into stations and people outta the system.

And that’s when a whole new adventure started for me.


Writing this, I realized I have a medical procedure happening this week and I’m also doing stuff in the gym.

I got a lot going on these days…


I should not have opened the Entenmann’s Wiki page.

Man, they discontinued the Apple Strudel, Pineapple Cheese Strudel and fruitcake? Those were amongst my faves.

God, I’m so hungry.

Location: home, just now remembering that I can’t eat for the next 36-48 hours. Shoulda had that pizza.
Mood: so hungry
Music: I ain’t the way you found me, and I’ll never be the same (Spotify)
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Jealous all the time, Pt 2

Found my wedding ring

Him: I came across some of your blog entries. It was unexpected.
Me: (nodding) I get that a lot. But we are what we constantly do and I always wrote. You surprised me as well. And I’m not often surprised. Hence, my being here. It seems that we all have our secret lives…and skills.

The Frenchman and his wife are also highly successful in their professional lives, like my friends around the way or the NFL Player.

Him: [My wife] runs the entire division.
Me: God, I wanna marry rich. Send me your rich, hot friends.
Him: (laughs) I might have someone for you.
Me: You should know, [I’m very shallow.]
Him: (laughs again)

There’s something about fighting that makes people struggle and scuffle in all areas of their lives. He’s not the first highly successful, highly dangerous person I’ve met in my life.

He reminded me of an old friend of mine. Quiet, highly educated, well-spoken, and well-dressed, but completely inured to violence.

Completely.

Him: (pointing over to someone at the bar) I know, what it will feel like if that man and I fought. I know how it would end, without knowing anything about him.
Me: If I had to fight you – or any grappler – I’d have to slit your wrists as soon as I could. I can’t allow you to grab me.
Him: (smiles) [You thought this through].
Me: I’ve survived this long by thinking things through.

In any ways, this craziness was a nice respite from the other craziness in my life.

He caught a cab home past midnight. We’d chatted for over four hours. It’s strange talking to my peers again.

Spent so much time talking to people so much younger than me for so long that it was like I was wearing old clothes that – surprisingly – still fit.

Him: I know you have close friends and a support network but if you ever feel down, don’t hesitate to ping me.
Me: I appreciate that, and the company and conversation tonight. These are the questions people of our age ask: Why are we here? And are we leaving the world better off than when we arrived? I don’t know the answer to either but am hopeful, for some reason.

I’m stupid like that.

And I don’t have many close friends on purpose. People are…difficult.


Walked home to my empty apartment, which was sparkling clean because the housekeeper was there earlier.

She found my wedding ring. I’d lost it ages ago but Alison never cared. She knew I was her fella; we were happy with just the other as company.

Friday nights were always our favourite.

It’s funny, the wedding ring never mattered to either of us, just the marriage itself.

Was actually holding it in my hand, thinking about my possible pasts again, when The Frenchman reached out to me earlier that night.

In any case, after I got back, I sat down and poured myself a drink and wished I asked him for his friend’s name that died from the brain cancer to give him a toast.

Instead, I just cheered Alison and my dad and downed it and half the bottle by myself in my empty apartment – the boy was away.

This is after four drinks with The Frenchman.

Woke up the next morning on my couch, still in my clothes. The ring was on the table.

Someone once asked if I was jealous of her bestie that recently had a baby with his wife.

She said it to break my heart but the joke was on her because you can’t break what’s already broken.

It was the strangest question because I thought the answer was obvious.

Of course I am, I said. I’m jealous all the fucking time.

Location: that night, with an empty bottle of rum on the table and an empty me on the couch
Mood: muddle-headed again
Music: I’m your walking disaster, keep on dragging me from self-pity, poor me (Spotify)
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Halloween 2022

Kindness in the world

The hits keep coming. Thought I was out of the woods (again) when my messaging apps started to be targeted.

Lost all my messages with Alison, Gradgirl, everyone.

It’s been exhausting. As soon as I patch one thing, something new breaks. Part of me wonders if they just want to drive me insane.

It may be working.

Before COVID, the (humongous) building next to us would invite the kid and me over to celebrate.

We had friends in the building and were friends with the staff, but this one older fella there always made sure we got an invite, just in case our friends or the staff didn’t invite us.

Just found out that he’s the condo president there.

I remain touched by all the kindness in the world.

Him: Can you come?
Me: Can we? We’re flattered we’re even invited!
Him: Of course you’re invited, you’re my guests!

The kid and my friend’s kid don’t really hang out much beyond this one sweet Halloween tradition, just because of scheduling and life, but the mom remarked:

Her: It’s funny, they never really see each other but when they do, it’s like no time has passed at all.
Me: (laughing) I suppose that’s how it is with good friends.

He had a grand time. And got waaaaaay too many sweets. That’s him as the fireman.

The president and our friends invited us to stay for the party afterward and it was nice, just sitting back and seeing the kid be a kid.

Although, to be fair, I did eat my fill of shrimp, pasta, and sausage and peppers.

The ABFF also invited us to go hang out with them like last year and I had some invites to things as well but I was too wrapped up in all the madness to do much beyond just let the kid play and try to be present for him.

Maybe next year, I’ll do something for myself.

It’s been ages since I went out for Halloween.

Location: my couch, with an empty bottle of rum on the table
Mood: concerned
Music: a sweet load of sugar-coated cherry pie (Spotify)
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There will be blood

My psychopath

Me: Dude, you wouldn’t believe the week I’ve been having.
Him: Well, what’s going on?
Me: First of all, I’m covered in blood. Second of al…what the hell?! I GOTTA GO!

Been insanely busy trying to re-secure my digital life and letting almost everything else fall by the wayside.

After the first massive hack attack, I definitely made things a lot safer – this time, I didn’t lose any money (yet), certainly not six-figures like last time.

But I did lose things that I didn’t realize mattered to me as much as they did, particularly my FB account, for reasons I already told you about.

Oddly enough, I was having the most rotten day just before everything went down.

Was literally on the phone with my brother at that moment because I found out some troubling things about…stuff.

So, to take my mind offa things, I started cooking…and massively sliced open my finger while cutting up some chix.

There was blood everywhere. Legit, everywhere.

Once I finally got things under control, I called my brother and was in the middle of telling him the awful luck I’ve been having lately when my phone started exploding with emails.

You see, it seems that when hackers get ahold of your information and want to start draining your financial accounts and also buy stuff from online stores like Amazon and eBay, they first sign you up to thousands – *thousands* of email lists so that you get an avalanche of emails and can’t see warning and order confirmation emails.

Like I always say, I only have the kinda luck no one wants.

Him: For type of access, it had to be someone that knew at least one login credential from your computers.
Me: Yeah. (nodding) I know.

On a slightly less stressful note, prior to alla this, the kid’s been having this one loose tooth that just wouldn’t come out.

For months. I told him for weeks that he had to wiggle it or we’d have to go to the dentist.

Again. For another $800.

Out of frustration, I told him that, if he pulled it out, then I would get him 16 Handles, an ice cream joint south of me.

Dammed if this kid didn’t immediately shove his whole hand into his mouth and furiously start twisting and pulling it like a psychopath.

He managed to yank it out that night.

He pulled it out and proudly showed me as blood came outta his mouth, onto his shirt, and he smiled proudly.

Him: 16 Handles?!
Me: (laughing) A deal’s a deal, kid. Let’s go.

Six weeks I’ve been waiting for this tooth to come out and he gets it out in a day. He asked to buy the doorman next door an ice cream too. Who was I to say no?

He just saved me $790.

Well, he just saved the hackers $790.

Man, I got a lotta things to do…

Location: my dining room table, surrounded by computer parts, equipment, and weapons
Mood: pissed
Music: They all hate me, because of my crime (Spotify)
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Mexican in Hoboken

What’s the best place?

Headed out to NJ a few times (again) to meet up with people for random reasons. Nothing I want to talk about now.

Well, except for the one time when I met up with my sister-in-law to bring the kid out to a kid’s festival.

Unfortunately, the organizers of it completely flaked, which was new to us. But not to them, evidently.

Worker: They just didn’t show up.
Me: You’re kidding!
Him: Sorry. This happened before.

But at least they put out a pumpkin patch, so all wasn’t lost.

We also ended up going for a walk.

When Alison and I got married, we actually only wanted to have a single party – not wedding – for our friends.

Unfortunately, that morphed into three different parties with three different groups of people.

One of them was for Alison’s extended family, which we did at Amanda’s in Hoboken.

We walked by there that day, and just like when the kid and I walked past the Maritime Hotel, I found my brain back a few years.

Her: We should go.
Me: Yeah…

We ended up walking further down. The kid was in the mood for Mexican so we ended up at a restaurant I’d not been to before.

Him: I want guacamole!
Me: You got it.

My SIL and I ended up having some killer food and some margaritas before we left.

Because my SIL is the kid’s aunt, she does aunt things, like get the boy things I wouldn’t get him.

Like a Magic 8-Ball.

To say this kid was thrilled about this is like saying water’s wet.

We parted ways right after Alison’s old block in Hoboken. I got stuck in my head again for a bit.

But I managed to pull myself out before it got too bad.

Me: Did you have a good time?
Him: Yeah! (looking at Magic 8-Ball) “What’s the best place in New York?”
Me: That’s not how it…
Him: “Ask again later.”
Me: Nevermind.

The day wasn’t what we thought it’d be, but it was still nice.

Kinda like my life in general.

Location: my pad, slicing open my finger, which is less than ideal
Mood: sad
Music: Let me show you how a day in my brain goes (Spotify)
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Crashing the party, Pt 1

A walk down my memory

The problem I have with dating is that it’s totally binary for me. Either I don’t date – at all – or I have eight dates in a week. There’s no middle ground.

This is not sustainable.

Her: Where were you?
Me: I left after 20 minutes.
Her: You left?! Who does that?
Me: Me. Being, admittedly, very pretty is no excuse for being rude. And pretty girls are a dime-a-dozen. Lose my number, please? Good luck with life.

On a different note entirely, the boy’s a social animal himself.

We’re not the same, he and I.

I taught myself how to be social, never having friends as a kid. My son, though, he’s a complete natural. But lemme back up a bit first…

We start out the day at a picnic at a playground where I catch a shot of the rainbow you see above.

Then we go to my gym for a quick spell, not much to say there.

Not from that day/night but this is a fun pic.

After the gym, he and I head off to another birthday party for the Surgeon’s kid at Chelsea Piers but it’s a gorgeous day, so we walk.

Ended up walking past the Maritime Hotel, which is where Alison and I had our first real date. I wrote about it here.

I met the girl that lost her fella there as well.

Never told you that she was the coke girl. She was 22 then and dealing with the loss of the man she loved, hence the drugs and alcohol. And me in her life.

Don’t think she’s ever recovered from that loss. But that’s her story, not mine.

I get it now, though.

Me: (staring at the Maritime Hotel) I went on a date with the prettiest girl here.
Him: Mommy?
Me: (nodding) Yeah. Mommy.

He wanted to walk along the Highline so we did. The last time I was there, I was with Alison as well.

But, let’s not go down this route. Alison and loss, that is.

In any case, the Highline was packed. We went about three blocks on it before…

Me: There are too many people here and we’re close. Let’s get off this ride?
Him: OK!

Here’s the thing, I totally messed up the time and arrived at Chelsea Piers two-and-a-half-hours early.

Him: Papa!
Me: (apologetically) I know, I know, I know. My memory is swiss cheese these days.

For any other kid, this woulda been a problem, but not my bright-eyed, bushy tailed kid.

But, it’s getting late and I gotta get off this ride.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: in my head, the Maritime Hotel
Mood: (still) super annoyed by these goddamn hives
Music: They don’t got a pill for this (Spotify)
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