So yesterday was Father's Day.
It went pretty much exactly as I had described it earlier.
I woke up on Father's Day without my family, drove to work, and then worked my brown little ass off. I got off, then drove rrrrright home, and then almost immediately drove to the in-laws house in the outskirts of another city where I got tackled into a long ass dinner and some of their patented in-law drama, and then, finally, a late late drive back home. That was my Father's Day.
The best part, without a doubt, was the time I got to spend with friends. My friend got me a nice card and some big chocolate strawberries that were tasty as hell and some reeeeeeeally good bacon. I may not have had a real Father's Day but at least someone cared and that means a lot to me.
But Father's Day is dead. Now it's the 16th. My wife's birthday.
Lets do this.