All Stressed-Out & No One to Choke

Hola! Bonjour! Hallo! Ciao!

It's a beautiful day in Boston, absolutely refulgent if you're a Red Sox fan. Viva Curt Schilling and all the other boys of summer. Lifetimes were spent waiting for just one Red Sox World Series win, I've now seen and cheered-on two, and the trend started the very month I moved into town. A lucky boy I am I'll say.

The last few weeks have been long, anxiety-filled ones. My mother gave us a scare with a heart/health episode but I'm convinced she's just testing our response time. RJ is good about calling but I've been aloof for the last couple of years. Thank God for Danny and Danielle. They're at the homestead watching over our little matriarch and providing us updates and feedback. Sometimes I wonder if returning south to keep a watchful eye is something I'll need to do eventually. Then I get drunk and forget all about it.

JS is hounding me about a rendezvous, sending my blood pressure into the stratosphere at the thought; not his fault but he'll not keep letting me push things out the way I like to do. He's muscley, handsome and has the demeanor of a happy Labrador, but even he'll wise-up to me before it's over with. How's the weather up there today Rochey? See, I'm thinking of you.

Realizing my waist isn't where it was recently I had to get myself a 'fat suit' just last year for things like funerals, meetings and the occasional Federal subpoena to appear as a witness in a Federally-prosecuted trial involving the FBI, a former employer and the U.S. attorney's office, but more about that in a minute. Of all the suits in my closet, it's the most recent one I've worn lately which isn't quite as, 'snug' as all the others. Imagine my anguish when I realized, looking over my flight reservations for tomorrow that the last time I wore that suit, IT TOO has also become, well, 'snug'...and that was June. My fear of wearing an ill-fitting pinstripe suit, silk blue tie holding the shirt collar together on a knot and a prayer while jettisoning a button or three into the face of a cross-examining, high-paid defense attorney with a very Italian-sounding last night is reaching critical mass, and all the chamomile tea in Italy isn't going to help.

About that that trial stuff; if you know me well, you know about it already. If not, trust me, it isn't interesting enough; But if no one hears from me by Thursday, please send a search party, and a seamstress.

Posted by JD on October 29, 2007 2:23 PM