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Today Sucks.

So my Jeep died this morning as I was heading to work. So that was fun. It's in the garage now and hopefully won't cost my entire savings to repair. The tow-truck driver was completely fucking obnoxious. The first thing the dumbass says to me is "I'm getting too old for this job." Motherfucker was younger than me. How fucking hard is it to drive a flat-bed tow truck and operate a winch? NOT VERY HARD YOU LAZY MOTHERFUCKER.

I was about ready to kill him for all his inane chatter about how bad a day he was having (while I'm standing out there looking at my fucking DEAD CAR and wondering how the fuck I'm going to get around town for the next few days) when he mentions that he's into Tool, and that they're his favorite band. So I tell him how I was into Tool before Opiate was released, and about the shows I've been to, and how much I fucking hate A Perfect Circle for resulting in less Tool albums/tours. And we get to talking about "10,000 Days" and like most of Tool's ignorant meathead fans he didn't get the album at all and was turned off by the band's continued and deeper exploration of progressive metal themes (I'm translating for him, he said it was "boring and didn't rock hard enough", fucking dumbass) and I said that I wasn't surprised that "10,000 Days" was so influenced by progressive rock given that Tool had been touring with seminal prog rockers King Crimson prior to the release of "10,000 Days."

Turned out he'd neve rheard of King Crimson or Joy Division, so I got to recommend both JD's "Closer" and KC's "Lark's Tongue And Aspic" to him, which made me happy and reduced my urge to kill him.

Then I got to work and my step-mom called me to tell me that my dad has been rushed to the hospital and is currently undergoing major upper back surgery, which involves "rewiring his neck" (wtf does that mean?), and will have to do months of intensive rehabilitation...only to go back for major lower back surgery. Apparently the numbness he'd been experiecing in his feet for the last few years has spread to his hands, and he's no longer able to walk. He'd been wheelchair bound while recovering from the lung cancer surgery, after they removed his lung, but he was supposed to be up and on his feet by now.

And I don't know how to deal with all that. I don't know how to deal with my dad, the tyrant and evil monster living in my head, being reduced to a wheelchair and being spoonfed by nurses. How the mighty have fallen. Mostly though, I'm just sad and anxious and want him to be okay. Because despite all the things that have happened between us, he's still my dad and I still love him.

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