Worst. Week. Ever.

It's 10:06 on Thursday night. In one hour and fifty-four minutes, the worst week of my life will be over. This exact time last week I was in the ER of UCLA medical center trying to console my roommate Ron who was trying to pass me off as his brother.

-- Ron is 6'4" tall, dark, thin, and Italian. --

Beth had a seizure and we had no idea why. We still don't although it's either viral or hormonal most likely. But her recovery was hard.

Then Sunday, on a dive boat, something shitty happened. Damian, something you fear the most.

It's sucked dealing with this. And I spent most of the week being the strong one despite really being quite weak. My alone times have been the hardest. And, frankly, those that know and are closest have been horribly disappointing... to an extreme, almost unforgivable level. I feel alone.



But tomorrow it's a new week. A new period of 7 days. I'm going to see Garth Brooks on tickets I freakishly got on the worst day of my life. And Saturday I'm going to Oregon thanks to my sister-in-law and brother. Maybe 2008 its just coming 25 days late...