bad metaphor

So I’ve been telling myself over and over, hey make hotel reservations for your family NOW before every single hotel room in Lawrence is taken. I’ve been putting it off, because of schoolwork and out of reluctance to deal with the family shuffling that will have to take place. My parents are not merely divorced, they are viciously so; meaning that having them up at the same time and doing things is out of the question. Especially since my dad remarried and his new wife is much younger. Not so fun for my mom, who’s slightly mentally unstable at the best of times.

The plan is this: my dad will come up the day before graduation, hang out with me, and then leave after the graduation ceremony. My mom will come up the day of graduation, hang around after the graduation ceremony, and then leave the next day. Flawless juggling of parental units, right?

Quite a smart plan, except for one fatal flaw: I am a lazy dumbass. I have waited until the next to the last damn minute to book hotel rooms, and subsequently there are NO rooms available the night before graduation, excepting at one place, and that place requires you to book a room for two nights (because it is a busy weekend). Argh. So now the plan is, since I have to book the room for my dad for two nights anyways, to have my mom and co. stay in the same room.

Does that make any sense at all? :???: My cunning scheme looks more and more doomed to fail, as I plan out the itineraries for the different sets of parents in my head. What am I going to do with both sets of parents once they are both in town? Split myself in two? Should I even tell Mom that she’s staying in the same room as hated Dad? Another thing to worry about is that the hotel room is a bit expensive, well, more expensive than my stingy dad is accustomed to paying, so now I’m a bit freaked out that he’ll be upset that I got him such an expensive hotel room and will resent paying for it, and in order to avoid that I’ll have to pay, and holy god does money seem to melt in my hands these days. :cry:

One who didn’t know me or my family well would probably pose the question: “but karenology, aren’t your parents not adults, and thus able to handle unpleasant encounters with maturity?” The answer, my friends, is maybe yes, if I’m extremely lucky that day. If an encounter does occur and things go smoothly, I will purchase a scratch ticket immediately. Such luck cannot be counted on for another century at least.

As I write this out, I’m becoming more and more accepting of the possibility that I am overreacting and that everything will be fine, and the rum-laced hot cocoa the boy has given me helps immensely. Still, though I’m giddy as a dropout at the prospect of no more school, I dread the day of graduation. Henceforth it will be known as *G-Day. I only wish there were certain days or weeks one could just skip over seamlessly, maybe even somehow retaining memories of what happened during the skipped days, but without having to mess with actually experiencing them.

* Not to be confused with G-Spots or Zero-G or other cool things.

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