So today, actually yesterday, was the nine year anniversary of my son's murder. Needless to say, it was shitty. Everything that could be wrong was wrong.
1. I had to work today, even though I requested the day off several times over the past month.
2. Everyone kept asking me what was wrong.
3. It was Bambino pasta night at the hotel. Meaning, I had to help all these kids make their own pasta and be all smiley and cheerful. Fuckin' yea for me.
And finally, I found out that the one person I can count on in this screwy little world is moving clear across the country. Fan-freakin-tastic!
Oh well, I'm off for two days, go figure, and I have a $140 bottle of some kick ass deep red Zin with my name on it.
Ciao,
S
1. I had to work today, even though I requested the day off several times over the past month.
2. Everyone kept asking me what was wrong.
3. It was Bambino pasta night at the hotel. Meaning, I had to help all these kids make their own pasta and be all smiley and cheerful. Fuckin' yea for me.
And finally, I found out that the one person I can count on in this screwy little world is moving clear across the country. Fan-freakin-tastic!
Oh well, I'm off for two days, go figure, and I have a $140 bottle of some kick ass deep red Zin with my name on it.
Ciao,
S