Not working today. And that's a good thing. Because this week sucked.

I really can't stand people who unleash their venom on me when they don't like a decision that I made, but then when asked what they would have me do, they do not have an alternative. That's bullshit. Be pissed at me if you think I made the wrong choice if you want to, but god dammit, you better have some idea of what the right choice would have been.

The boy and I are driving to grandma's house this weekend. It is my cousin's wife's baby shower. There is much cause to celebrate, because a) this will be my grandma and grandpa's first and probably only great grandchild and b) she has miscarried five times - the most recent of which happened at 20 weeks. She's made it to 30 weeks at this point, and we're all holding our breath.

The weekend ought to be interesting. I'm not particularly fond of my grandmother. Our relationship is the most complicated relationship I have ever had/will ever have with anyone. We have elevated love/hate to an art form. Suffice it to say, I don't have a milk and cookies grandma. But she's 91 now. And she's on her way out. So, I've resigned myself to not only burying the hatchet, but burying it in the backyard as opposed to say, her head.

But I love my grandpa. God, do I love my grandpa.

Boy doesn't do so well when he's among people he doesn't know. He doesn't become quiet or shy. No, in fact, like a five-year old, he begins performing. Loudly. Perhaps we can work on that this weekend so I don't have to kill him and drop his body on the side of route 17.

Darn, I'm violent this morning.

Okay, it's time for a walk and then shopping and then packing and then leaving.