I played hooky today. I can't believe I did that.

I'm normally a very well-behaved person. I did have a stint in middle school of going home sick with a headache (I can't believe they just let me go home like they did all the time, either. I did actually have headaches, but they weren't all that bad enough to go home about.) in the middle of the day, but since then I've had Perfect Attendance drilled into my head. I've cut the occasional class in college (mostly 9 a.m. aerobics after a wild night or after I missed the bus), but I haven't cut out of anything since Sarah's 21st birthday, i.e. the first time I ever got drunk enough to feel bad. All these times Dave's asked me to call in sick, and this time he didn't even ask, I just went for it. I called in with a headache again.

Oh well. I'll think of it as a birthday present to me when I feel guilt about it. I still have a damn hard time even remembering it's my birthday tomorrow. Doesn't feel like it at all, and oddly enough, 24 on the 24th is one I've looked forward to for ages. (And even put into my novel, come to think about it.)

Anyway, we didn't do a whole lot. Lounged around, played computer games, ate, went to the store, yada yada. But it was lovely. And we had this very romantic conversation about all of the things we'd like to do and go to with each other. Awww.

Oh, and we even had good news today- Hill got the job she applied for! Woo hoo!

I had another one of those Weird Wedding Moments today. Hill was talking about how her best friend Kendra wants to get married at a spa in December, and I thought "December? Isn't that really soon?" (Um, yeah, Jen, she got engaged in November, and that's how many months away from now anyway?) Mmm, spas. Nice. Don't think I'd do that, but it's a cool idea.

There was, however, one frightening moment.

The subject of compromises came up on one of my various message boards on Monday, and I posted about the whole children dilemma, only to get a lot of "DON'T do it if you don't really want children!" kinds of posts. Eek. Anyway, in my clarifying post after that I said something along the lines of that I at least want to wait a few years on the issue and I don't want to be a young mother.

Well. Oy. Vey.

I don't really remember how we got onto the topic (something about how the idea of our parents meeting scares the crap out of the both of us), but I mentioned that the reasons why I'm an only child are that (a) the pregnancy was rocky and Dad didn't want to put Mom through that again and (b) he decided he was too old to have another kid. My grandfather died at the age of 53 of a heart attack, and for some reason Dad always thought (until he hit his 54th, anyway) that he'd die at the same age. He didn't have any health problems at the time, mind you (he didn't even get diabetes until I was 2), he was just paranoid.

Dave, well, related to this more than I knew about. I'm muttering something about how unlike Dad, I'm not worried about any kind of timeline with regards to that, but, well... Dave is. I'm not going to get into details, but he's got a condition that a doctor apparently said he'd be lucky to live to 60 with, and while he'd like to get settled in a few years first, well... yeah, he's worried about time.

I about froze right there, for both reasons. And I thought "Oh shit, I am so turning into my mother when I'm in my 50's."

He reassured me that several family members have outlived doctors who made pronunciations like that, but I'm still feeling freaked out.

previous entry - next entry
archives - current entry