AA: Holding Hands at the End

It's 2:38 in the afternoon on a Monday and I am sitting at my desk in my bathrobe. No, I am not merely very into my work from home day. I am, in fact, sick. It may or may not be COVID -- probably is -- but I'll explain that in time.

It's been a pretty busy month. We've been trying to enjoy the last bits of warmth and sun as Summer gradually dips into fall -- certainly more gradual than some years as it remains above 20. A few weeks ago we attempted to introduce Hank to Jake at Mel's parents' place and it really didn't work out very well, but we stayed for kind of an impromptu dinner. Then the next weekend we did birthday lunch at Mandarin for Mel's mom and Laura. We went back to Mel's parents' house afterward and had an afternoon and I was kind of getting antsy by the end because we had left Hank home for a long while. But there was big news, in that we learned the names, and therefore genders, of Unc and Sherlie's twins. Well, we already knew one gender but now we know both and both names to go along with.

On the way over, the car started making a concerning noise, a rhythmic clicking or ticking or tapping originating kind of inside the dashboard. Monday -- after spending the Sunday relaxing and redecorating -- I booked an appointment to get the car looked at, earning myself a little bit of WFH time. They diagnosed it pretty easily but what was supposed to be a two-day job stretched to three when the parts supply company ended up sending the wrong part. It would not be the last time in this post that the supply chain let me down -- except I can't really say it was a letdown, as I had gotten a loaner (at least for the last day) and got to spend all three days at home instead of in the office. Win-win... except for the $900 we had to pay for what turned out to be a new actuator in the HVAC system. Well, the car was basically free and has had no problems for four years, what do you want.

Because there was a lot going on on Friday, we ended up doing our workout on Thursday. Friday, Mel had a doctor's appointment, the nature of which I won't divulge but basically set the tone for the weekend, one of heightened anxiety and frustration. Friday night we were planned to go to Stoney Creek to see a band play that Mel and Meghan had seen way back in their high school days. It was kind of a fence-mending moment between those two because their relationship had cooled over the years, especially around the time Meghan started having kids. Anyway, I thought it would be a nice couples outing -- dinner at the pub, then the show at 10 -- but Meghan mentioned she was inviting her parents and also some friends, and it felt a little... like a lot. Well, her parents didn't end up coming (for the same reason Mel's parents declined our courtesy invite -- it's a little late you know) and Danny ended up having to look after the kids when his mom was unable to make it to sit, so it was us and Meghan and two new friends who were nice gentlemen -- Meghan's friend Jake and his sister' boyfriend Richard who was visiting from Scotland (the sister couldn't make it.) While Mel and Meghan caught up, I did my best to keep the conversation flowing with the others, despite the fact that my hearing in such a noisy place was not the best.

The food was good, the band went on at 10 as promised, opening with "Burning Down the House." The fellas stayed for one set, there were some rowdy Gen X/Boomers in the crowd between sets, and Meghan went before they started their second. We hung out a while dancing and singing despite the fact that someone had dropped a glass next to our table and Mel was wearing open shoes (she escaped unscathed... in this case.) It was mostly 80s covers -- "Jesse's Girl," "Your Love," "One Way Or Another," "We Built This City," and the like, along with some 90's hip hop like "Jump Around" and "Baby Got Back" and a few surprising current picks like "Flowers" and "As It Was." My battery was getting drained and I didn't feel like there was a lot left to see by the middle of the third set, so when they launched into "Personal Jesus," Mel decided it was okay to leave. We got home around 2, it was the latest we'd been out since the night we got Hank. This was, in many ways, a more enjoyable time.

Saturday, we went and picked up some breakfast and iced coffees together and ate in the backyard and did a bit of work. We we were binge-watching the Menendez Bros. series on Netflix, which I had fallen asleep during much of. Sunday we had breakfast in-house and went to Ren's to weigh Hank (down to 23.8 kg!) and buy some treats and just generally hang around on the strip of grass outside. Mel mentioned she was thirsty and got a sudden, irrevocably craving for a fountain Coke. Well, you know me, I work to give her whatever crazy desire she wants so before you know it I'm down at the Mal racing around the food court to see who has fountain Cokes -- other than A&W, which I always feel is a little "off" with their drinks, it's nobody, but on our way out we rolled by Five Guys and they had exactly what we wanted. We went home, did some lazing, planned our meals for the week, I went grocery shopping, and we had our night, with prime rib dinner from Fortinos, settling in to watch the MasterChef finale.

It was all set to be a really nice, quiet little night, when we took Hank out for a walk. We got out the far end of the complex. Mel asked me to stoop down and fix Hank's leash. She asked me something about whether we should stay still and wait for the other dog to pass. Before I can ask what dog, I turn and see a dog staring Hank down. Before I know what's what, that dog starts barking, and Hank lunges, and it turns Mel around, jerking her arm backward -- woof. She knew instantly she had torn the fingernail off her right index finger, which was brutal and cast a pall over the evening. We were kind of quiet and at a low simmer after that, but the tensions thawed by the time we went to bed.

Overnight I realized I was sick. In the morning Mel realized she was sick. I had to do some running around, I went and got some COVID tests, but all that was available were ones that had expired on the 21st night of September (coinciding with a song Mel and I had actually heard on the radio on Sunday, for understandable reasons.) Another failure of the supply chain but it really speaks to demand more than anything. Anyway, that test did come back positive for me so I logged off and rested and now here I am. I've had some soup, Mel hasn't really eaten, she's just lying in bed with a cold compress.

I'm not a very good patient. I used to love being sick when I was a kid, I would stay home with Grandma watching me and play WWF games on N64. She would scold me that if I was sick I shouldn't be able to play video games, but -- as much as I loved her -- what was she going to do about it?

I should note, I have a complex about sick days. I mean, obviously when I was in retail I never took them, and probably rarely did so when I was in office, and definitely didn't take many while I was working from home. (Like, why bother?) But given I had just taken three days of work from home -- which in the new paradigm feels very looked-down upon -- I felt exposed working my way up to saying I would have to take some sick days. But Maria is outwardly very understanding. She always says, take the days you need, they're there. And it's true.

It also couldn't hardly have come at a better time for Mel, as she shook the extraneous projects and is now solely on the Government job, where she is managing a pod -- which of course carries some responsibilities, but if you can't take sick days under these circumstances when can you?

So I'm sick, and I'm looking after her, and I've walked Hank once and will have to do so again later. Once this is done I will probably go back to the couch and rest -- or really look at my phone -- until Mel summons me for food. I would love to use this time productively; maybe tomorrow, but this was enough for today since I was looking to get around to writing this point anyway, and after all, I am supposed to be sick (I promise, I am.)

I hope her finger is feeling better.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto