Got a call from my dad today. I figured he would call before too long. It's been what, a month since I last heard from him? Maybe two since I was fired three weeks ago. He usually flips back and forth between Seester and I, asking for money. He hit her last.
So I get this call, and it's Daddy (a little strange because the woman who's house I have been working on asked me about my dad today. I told her the usual answer. He's alive, as far as I know). Apparently he's put in 35 applications over the last week and hasn't heard a thing. I explained that I am jobless too right now. Still skating like crazy, that I love it, but no job.
He didn't ask what I meant about skating. I doubt he even knows about Derby. I mean, he knows what it is, of course, but I don't think he knows I do it. He just got off the phone. Limited minutes, you know (on a "private" number? aren't those usually land lines? I still have a San Diego number. hmmm). I wished him well.
Meanwhile, I took pictures of my injuries, which really don't do them justice, but I think you'll get the idea.