I'm hot, agitated and tearful.
Saturday, 03/12/05 - 6:05 pm.

Today's probably the hottest day of the year so far, and I'm in a bad mood.

Let's begin with the phone call to Joseph, shall we? I called to his house in the morning, but no one picked up. I called him to his cellphone, he said he was home. So I called again, and this time he picked up.

Well, it sounded like he was in a good mood. Obviously, he was hungover. We didn't talk for more than 30 seconds. He started to explain me what he was watching on TV and then I realized he was talking to somebody else in the room with him. He usually has friends over after a night of drinking.

I asked him what time they got home, and he asked his friend, and then went on tangents with him. I was hearing everything, but obviously he wasn't talking to me. And he kept on bla-bla-bla, and talked about what they were watching on TV, and asked questions.

After the last question he said "hello?". Oh, that was to me?, I asked. And I meant it, I wasn't being sarcastic. Let's talk some other day, ok?, I said. The end. I may see him on monday, but I shouldn't have sounded too interested on that. It's not like I am, after this morning.

When I hung up, I started to cry. I suppose I was just very upset, I thought it was utterly rude of someone to do that...isn't it? You don't call your boyfriend to hear him talking to his hungover friend about what's on TV at the moment. But that's what I did for four minutes, on and off, until he finally started talking to me again. Like I said, altogether, we didn't talk for more than 30 seconds.

I'm thinking of how special he is, how I've never met anyone like him, but I can't help thinking all we've done these past months is fall apart.

Moments later, when I cleaned up my face and all, off I went to the airport, to pick up my sister, who was coming back from New York. Traffic was awful, it was hard to get out of the city. All you could see ahead was an endless line of cars. I counted three dead dogs on the road. But they were nothing but red mashed potato on the asphalt, run over and over. That made me sad, as well as the fact that every time we're drive to the airport, there are less and less trees.

The worst part was getting to the airport. Let me tell you one thing: in this country, it's apparently necessary for you to bring your family, all ten members, to the airport, to pick up a person. The place was packed, and the heat was intolerable. I had to get out of the waiting room, but since the airport is near the sea, the wind was hot, too.

I'll save my description of being there, but I was on the verge of stabbing people and crying. I was looking after my nephew, who has me worried, because he's been down all week. He's usually this cheery, active boy, and while there hasn't been any change in his personality (he's always polite, and never complains about anything), he's been sad.

It probably has to do with the car accident he had last week, when he went out with his father (who didn't say a word about it, we discovered because the boy couldn't sit properly). Or maybe it's the constipation...last week, we found out that he has trouble on the toilet. I suffered from that, back in my day, and I know that makes you feel bad, physically, and mentally. It's the pain in the center of your body and the shame. In the end, though, those are just assumptions. I really don't know why he looks so sad, I wish I did.

On the way back home, my sister was telling us all about her trip. She met up there with my brother, sister in law, nephew and niece, who were there because my nephew had to perform in Boston with his choir (I WANTED TO GO!). All good times, except when she hinted that my brother and his wife are having problems agains (that was happening in december, before I went to Houston to visit them).

At home, after lunch, my nephew was taking a nap, and my parents took advantage of that to fill my sister in. They told her about the car accident, how the man (my nephew's father) didn't say a word about it and we had to take him to get X-rays and all. Legal actions, is what I make out of all that.

Then it was my sister's turn to tell them about the problems in the marriage of my brother. Long story short, and all details ommited, my sister in law discovered something about a escort service everytime he goes on a trip. He's neglecting his family, he's been drinking, and he's fucking up his marriage, not to mention he's in great danger. My sister says he's got a problem. I am highly worried, to the point of crying.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

So, as I was saying, I'm in a bad mood today.

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