Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She called me this morning at work, and I still didn't remember until she said something about going out to dinner with friends for her birthday. Do I apologize? No. I sit there through her next piece of conversation thinking, "Oh shit. Did I forget her birthday?"

I SUCK.

And I was so proud of myself for getting a thank you card out promptly for the check she sent to pay for our new mattress. It was a belated house warming gift.

And she's up there, taking care of my terroristic grandmother whose dementia just keeps getting worse and worse. Mom says she's getting even more hostile. She won't move to walk to the bathroom until she's peed on herself, and then she says, "I didn't do that! You did!" One of my sisters came to visit and my grandmother told her to get the hell out and never come back. A neighbor brought over her grandbaby. My grandmother used to love babies. Love. Them. This one she threatened to get an ax and chop off both its feet in one stroke.

Mom compares my grandmother's dementia to the symptoms reported on mad cow disease. That the holes in the brain make the animals more aggressive. Sounds like it to me. And she's tried two different psychotropic (is that the right word?) drugs on her. They just made her worse. I suggested whiskey in her cereal milk. Mom said she hadn't thought about that.

Did I mention that I suck?

Yesterday I got a hit from someone at senate.gov. Okey-dokey. I really don't know what to do with that. Nothing to be done, I guess. Hi, Sen. Cleland! Good job! I voted for you. Please don't sick the bedroom police on me.

I also surpassed 100 visitors in one day, thanks in large part to that banner ad. Cool. And mucho thanks to whoever listed me as the D-land Gold member who recommended them. I got 20,000 more banner views! *cracks whip with glee!*

Deb and Jake went to a wine tasting at a restaurant with a bunch of folks from Deb's wine store last night.

Deb called home at about 10 to let me know that they were still there. She sounded plastered. I asked to talk to Jake, who didn't sound much better.

Long story short: I called Sara at work and let her know the story. She got really worried really fast. I called the restaurant back and talked with Jake, suggesting that they take a cab to the train station and come home that way.

Jake assured me that she had stopped drinking, and that by the time they had eaten dessert, she would be okay, but that she would do the cab/train thing if she wasn't.

Jake drove home. She let Deb get her car at the train station here and drive it home (1 mile). Deb was still bad off enough that she missed the turn for our street on her way home. Jake giggled when Deb told her about it after they had arrived safely.

Badsnake NOT happy with either of them.

This is why I hate it when Deb hangs out with the wine store people. They are all a bunch of completely irresponsible drunks. They push more booze on anyone who tries to slow down. Errrg. Assholes.

I can't say for sure what kind of condition Jake was in when she drove home last night. Deb was certainly functional and not slurring or anything. But if I had to make a bet, I would put my money on neither of them being able to pass a breathalizer test.

I'm still pretty grumpy about it, but I don't have any major proof that they weren't sober enough to be out there, so I can't rationally get fully pissed. That's kind of frustrating on its own.

Generally, I would trust Jake's judgment on anything without question, but alcohol makes it a different story.

Am I sounding like an incredibly cranky stick-in-the-mud? I sort of feel like a revenuer, but I just don't like my honeys to take stupid chances. And I do realize that my concerns about their safety and health would make a good argument for me to stop smoking, too. But am I quitting? Not yet. Stupid, Badsnake.