Well then.
Just as a general FYI, my father went into the hospital yesterday morning for uncontrolled bleeding following a colonoscopy. He was supposed to be released this morning, but for reasons I'm not clear on, he's staying another night.
The reason I'm not clear on the reasons is, essentially, my mother. And since no entry about my family would be complete without a story about how my mother is fucked in the head, let me tell you how she told me about Dad going to the hospital yesterday.
Scene: Branwyn's book room. The ugly specter of insomnia hangs heavy on her brow. Branwyn lies on the couch, attempting to snatch a few hours of sleep before going to work.
Her cell rings.
Bran: *bleary* "...yes, hello."
Mom: "Hi. I need you to do me a favor."
Bran: "...right, okay."
Mom: "Can you go downstairs and get my portable DVD player, then go look in a box on the table in the laundry room and get that DVD with all sorts of Westerns on it?"
Bran: "..."
Mom: "And then bring it to me at work?"
Bran: *looks, despairing, at clock* "Is this really quite important? Because it's going to be massively inconvenient." NB: It's thirty miles out of my way to work to get to Mom's office. She knows this.
Mom: *stiffly, in a tone of faint injury* "It's important to me."
Bran: *sighs, mourning for lost opportunities of sleeping* "Alright, I'll call you back."
Scene: Branwyn, in a sleep deprived haze, wanders around the house, somehow managing to shower, dress, pack things, create worksheets for job, and do a little writing, all without consciously processing a bit of it. Gets in car. Drives for twenty minutes. Is half way to Raleigh when realizes, O HAI I LEFT MOM'S CRAP IN A BAG BY THE DOOR.
Bran: *driving* "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKGODFUCKINGDAMMIT." *calls Mom*
Mom: "Hello?"
Bran: "Ok, I need to know if this is really, really important, because I got your stuff and then forgot it at the house. I've just barely got time to turn around and get it, if you---"
Mom: "No, that's ok. I was going to take it to your dad in the hospital, but it turns out he doesn't want it."
Bran: "...
...
...when did Dad go to the hospital?"
Mom: "He woke up this morning with really bad bleeding, so he decided to go."
Bran: "...is there a reason you didn't mention this? It's not like we didn't see each other this morning."
Mom: "Well, I figure that when I call and ask you to do something and I say it's important, you should just know that I wouldn't say that unless it really was."
Bran: "...this is not about my bringing the DVD player, actually, this is about the fact that you didn't see fit to mention DAD BEING IN THE HOSPITAL."
Mom: *makes flimsy excuses that escape the memory because she's just been caught ACTING LIKE A FIVE YEAR OLD.*
*
So anyway, yeah. He was meant to have some tests this morning and then be released, according to Mom, but she called me at noon to say they're keeping him indefinitely. So---you know. Whatever's up with that.
I called the family I work for and told them the situation and took the afternoon off in an attempt to carve out some time for actual sleep. Woke up a couple hours later, unable to sleep anymore, despite the fact that I have, as of now, slept about...*mental math* 13 hours over the last five days. The screen is looking rather blurry, I must say.
Last night---no, actually, more like 3 o'clock this morning, I was talking on the phone to prof_pangaea and described the above conversation to him.
prof_: "You know how not long ago we were talking about how, like, so-and-so is what Luna Lovegood would be like in real life? Your mom is basically the Master."
Ladies and gentlemen, the Family Bran.
The reason I'm not clear on the reasons is, essentially, my mother. And since no entry about my family would be complete without a story about how my mother is fucked in the head, let me tell you how she told me about Dad going to the hospital yesterday.
Scene: Branwyn's book room. The ugly specter of insomnia hangs heavy on her brow. Branwyn lies on the couch, attempting to snatch a few hours of sleep before going to work.
Her cell rings.
Bran: *bleary* "...yes, hello."
Mom: "Hi. I need you to do me a favor."
Bran: "...right, okay."
Mom: "Can you go downstairs and get my portable DVD player, then go look in a box on the table in the laundry room and get that DVD with all sorts of Westerns on it?"
Bran: "..."
Mom: "And then bring it to me at work?"
Bran: *looks, despairing, at clock* "Is this really quite important? Because it's going to be massively inconvenient." NB: It's thirty miles out of my way to work to get to Mom's office. She knows this.
Mom: *stiffly, in a tone of faint injury* "It's important to me."
Bran: *sighs, mourning for lost opportunities of sleeping* "Alright, I'll call you back."
Scene: Branwyn, in a sleep deprived haze, wanders around the house, somehow managing to shower, dress, pack things, create worksheets for job, and do a little writing, all without consciously processing a bit of it. Gets in car. Drives for twenty minutes. Is half way to Raleigh when realizes, O HAI I LEFT MOM'S CRAP IN A BAG BY THE DOOR.
Bran: *driving* "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKGODFUCKINGDAMMIT." *calls Mom*
Mom: "Hello?"
Bran: "Ok, I need to know if this is really, really important, because I got your stuff and then forgot it at the house. I've just barely got time to turn around and get it, if you---"
Mom: "No, that's ok. I was going to take it to your dad in the hospital, but it turns out he doesn't want it."
Bran: "...
...
...when did Dad go to the hospital?"
Mom: "He woke up this morning with really bad bleeding, so he decided to go."
Bran: "...is there a reason you didn't mention this? It's not like we didn't see each other this morning."
Mom: "Well, I figure that when I call and ask you to do something and I say it's important, you should just know that I wouldn't say that unless it really was."
Bran: "...this is not about my bringing the DVD player, actually, this is about the fact that you didn't see fit to mention DAD BEING IN THE HOSPITAL."
Mom: *makes flimsy excuses that escape the memory because she's just been caught ACTING LIKE A FIVE YEAR OLD.*
*
So anyway, yeah. He was meant to have some tests this morning and then be released, according to Mom, but she called me at noon to say they're keeping him indefinitely. So---you know. Whatever's up with that.
I called the family I work for and told them the situation and took the afternoon off in an attempt to carve out some time for actual sleep. Woke up a couple hours later, unable to sleep anymore, despite the fact that I have, as of now, slept about...*mental math* 13 hours over the last five days. The screen is looking rather blurry, I must say.
Last night---no, actually, more like 3 o'clock this morning, I was talking on the phone to prof_pangaea and described the above conversation to him.
prof_: "You know how not long ago we were talking about how, like, so-and-so is what Luna Lovegood would be like in real life? Your mom is basically the Master."
Ladies and gentlemen, the Family Bran.