Weekends

     Morning.  Short one today.

     Saturday.  I always like to start early.  Just something about having a day off.  I'm not one to lay about.  Do some errands in the morning.  Half an afternoon for myself.  B.I.L. would take the first shift at the center.  I'd come home round 3.  He'd be well into round one of his drinking.  

     Check to see if she asked him to have me bring something up.  I'd go up usually between 5-6.  Usual stuff.  Talk.  Maybe push her around the facility.  Say hey to friends.  Check if there were activities for the night.  Smoke.  Bring her back.  Get ice.

     Ice.  A very important last detail of the evening.  Sometimes if she felt like it she'd accompany me.  Most times though she'd be getting to bed as I went for it.  

     Get home around 7:30.  I was so broke that more often than not I had no plans.  So I'd just chill for the night.  I'd wake up the drunken one.  Usually would go to pick up the take out, he was buying after all.  Then chill.

     It's funny because of something that happened this morning.  He came into the kitchen as I made my breakfast.  Asked me if I let the dog out last night.  I said no.  He didn't close the door of his bedroom to the outside.  So it he had been cold.   I looked at him and told him, that was why I often just came in as he was nodding off.  It wasn't the first time he'd let it happen.

     Sunday.  Bakery run.  Shop for food. Either the lounge or other activities.  Again he had the early shift.  It's been that way since he came out here to live.  Gets everything done by 3 so he can start pounding beer and not leave the house.  

     The only difference is at some point I told him how to cook the precooked chicken I bought.  And put in the potatoes for baking.  He usually did this fairly well.  Unless there were dishes to be washed.

     But that pretty much sums up how my time was accounted for in this and the previous entry.  I don't feel like correcting that run-on sentence.