Ugh. Today was one of those days I felt that I was going to implode. The week started off well — I pulled off a coup and, despite a nor’reaster here in Boston, I really did my best to take Mom out for dinner for her birthday, surprised her with a certificate to her favorite store, pulled out the stops with flowers and all…then the week’s been so crazy, between my diverticulitis/IBS continuing to act up — no doubt, aggravated by pressures at my day job and, now, taking on a grad class with a big paper due soon. I had just enough time on my way home from work, before running home to sit down and do more research, to stop by mom’s again to pick up some bills and help with some things. Even dropped off some shopping she needed.
I couldn’t hide my frustrations and fatigue from the long week, let alone today — and I was not feeling well in my stomach again. My mom could tell; and when I started to motion to leave, she started with The Mood, not being happy that I was leaving so soon. She always simply has to voice it…she must say it out loud that it’s never enough how long I stay, and even though I live 2 miles away and we spent the whole day together for her birthday last Sunday, before my unreal schedule kept me from doing much else but work and studying all this past week.. This was the clinker; she shot at me: “C’mon, Gary, some moms see their sons 2 or 3 times a week!”