It’s been a strange and exhausting week so far.
Wendy left for a month in Europe on Sunday, and while she’s flirting around France drinking wine and humping on swarthy Italian men, I’ve been hauling my kids around Southwest Florida in the boiling sun like a mad lunatic.
Take Evan to soccer practice.
Leave him there and take Rowan to swim practice.
Drop her off, and back to soccer to pick Evan up.
Home to make him lunch, then back on the road to pick Rowan up. Dinner and groceries and doctor appointments and finally, working late at night while the house is mercifully quiet.
It’s been crazy.
I’ve also been dealing with a strange injury to the pinky finger on my right hand.
I had a hangnail that I tried to rip off about ten days ago…
And when I couldn’t get a good grip on it, I went to town chewing on it like some sort of large sweaty beaver.
I know I’m not the only guy who’s ever bitten off a hangnail, but apparently I am the only guy who’s had the bitten hangnail get infected.
When I realized it was still hurting a week later (and was actually hurting more and more and swelling up like it had been whacked with a Tom and Jerry hammer) I finally said screw it and went and got some antibiotics.
So this morning I’m sitting here banging this post out with a throbbing, swollen pinky finger and a belly full of antibiotics.
I managed to set both kids up with hangouts and sleepovers so I’ve actually got the entire morning free to get some work done while it’s actually light out, and I’m looking forward to it.