Saturday

I think my sister is allergic to me. She’s going through a really difficult time at work, and I found out she was going to be alone this weekend (her boys would be visiting their dad this weekend) so I suggested we get together at a fancy-schmancy mall in Columbus to eat and shop.

I worked this morning 6am until noon. We worked hard. I was going to come home, shower, change, and head to Columbus. Just as I left the building I got a voice mail on my cell phone. I listened to it as I pulled out of the lot. It was my sister. She woke up with an earache and just didn’t feel up to getting together.

It is easier to count the number of times that she has come through on something we’ve planned together than all the countless times that she’s cancelled. And it’s always with some kind of ailment: headache, cramps, sore throat, hangnail—okay, maybe that was a minor exaggeration. It has happened so often that I really wonder if she really is allergic to me.

She not only called my cell, she called my home and told Nelson what was going on. He said he’d have me call. I don’t want to call. I don’t want to talk to her. I wish I wasn’t so disappointed. I hate that I let my hopes get up.

I thought about going on down to Columbus by myself, but decided against that and mowed yard instead. It was a good way to get my exercise in and my frustration out. Now that’s done until next spring—according to Nelson.

The sun is shining so nice I may go take a walk in a little bit. Or drive down to Mfield to Barnes and Noble. I’ve got a gift card just burning a hole in my wallet. Nelson says shop. I love that man.