Thursday, June 03, 2004

Formula One

About six months ago, some buddies and I planned a trip to go see Formula One's U.S. Grand Prix this June in Indianapolis. It actually falls on Father's Day. I've wanted to see one of these damned things for as long as I can remember. I figured I owe myself a little getaway because, Christ, I don't do a damn thing but work my ass off to take care of my family. It's hard for me to do anything else because my wife works at night, so I have to take care of my daughter. Which I love don't get me wrong, but I could use some release.
Anyway, I reconciled the whole trip in my mind and decided I deserved it. My wife agreed. But what's wrong now? I feel like a total shit. I get two short, lousy weeks of vacation every year and I'm going to blow one of them on myself? I mean, what the hell does my daughter get out of this? I'm not being fair at all.
Already I find myself frequenting the Disney World website, checking out hotel rates and availability. It's getting too hard to justify blowing money (which I can't really spare to begin with!) on myself, instead of giving my daughter something to remember. Besides, I would miss her miserably. I know I have to take advantage of her now when she's only four years old, and she still thinks it's cool to hang out with me. She'll be changing her mind soon enough and then I'll have plenty of chances to go see the fucking races.

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