It’s A Long, Long, Road.

It’s A Long, Long, Road.

With ever a winding turn, no less. The Return of the Dada has since become one of his better trips back in recent memory, and for the life of me, I can’t really tell why. Granted, I still don’t know how I’d survive with my father staying at home full-time, and I don’t think that I’d like it very much, but having him back on a timeshare basis isn’t that bad. The final revelation (we have a lot of these on his second last day left) when we went out to dinner last night:-

He’s coming back for good in November. There will be no extensions. He wants to “add more life to his years”. He'll come back, and do what he’s always wanted to do for a while now…nothing. And when he comes back, it’s going to be a whole other ballgame.

But I won’t worry about that for now.

My papers for this semester are over. It’s freedom for 3 weeks or so, with the exception of doing some BIZ Council work in college. But besides that, I suppose that it’s going to be free and easy. Or something that resembles that particular state of mind that I’ve been wishing for, these last few weeks. The good thing is, with my father back, I actually did make a conscientious half-effort to revise my work. And, in a feeble way, it paid off. Yesterday’s Project Management paper was one of the best papers I’ve sat for in ages (but the truth is, I still didn’t have time to finish it). I won’t bore you with the details; no worries. This is not an academic’s blog (as you can see from the last post, with it being a total embarrassment).

So. This month, I can try my best to take Nicole out for lunch and prove to her that I’m not that bad, read those Star Wars comics that are overdue on reading, complete Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, finish off a long list of games and sleep. All in a month’s work, no? And I can make the occasional appearance in college to make Lena happy.

And so, we’re here again at a crossroad. My father leaving has yet again, made me a sentimental cad. I guess that I can’t help going through the paces; first, the utter surprise, then the vehement loathing, and then, the quiet remorse. I don’t hate my parents (that’d be rude), but…I like to think that I have some unresolved issues with them. Y’know…that time I caught my father and his mistress in bed together (which is just funny now, from whatever angle you see it from…figuratively, not literally), and my mother, the drama queen who borders on raving neurotic so often that it borders on being a little too close for comfort?

Yes, well. All these things are open to debate. I have faith in my own husbandly duties and parenting abilities in the future that I won’t have to make it rain for my child. No. I’d probably engage the hippy parenting so well displayed by Sandy Cohen and be the loyal husband, loving father and all-round lovable lug. Yes. That will be me.

Coz lord knows I’m not that right now.

A long road? You betcha.