It was supposed to be my weekend to see my daughters; my oldest called me, while I was on my way on the freeway, to inform me that they didn't really feel like coming. Frankly, I don't blame her, and it ain't like I'm about to press the issue. If they don't, I can understand why not. Both of them have now gotten just a little bit paranoid about what grandpa might do, or what the hell might fly out of his mouth. I worry about that, too. Everybody else is either on edge, or gone for most of the weekend, so to their minds it's probably boring as hell. "Social networking" sites? Unh-unh. Chatting online?! LORD NO! Fatigue breeds possessiveness, and all kinda other ugly sh*t in her, hell, I get scared of the woman. Does it suck overall? Hell, yeah, it does, I love my children as much as I ever have, and God knows I've tried to do my best for them. Martha expressed her sentiment that she feels like we're in a holding pattern, and I could do nothing but agree with it. I hate the way things are overall, right now, I could hope for anything I want, but that da*n sure doesn't mean it's going to happen any time soon. I suppose I'll just wait, and make arrangements to do things with my daughters, perhaps on their turf, definitely at times when things are just flat-out less crazy. Which, of course, they aren't, for any damn number of reasons. Mind you, it's not like I'm contemplating doing anything stupid, I've worked too damn hard to get to where I am at; and, believe me, I understand where my daughters are coming from, particularly when they're approaching that age. They're not the little girls they once were, and they're smarter than almost anyone, seemingly save for me, is willing to give them credit for. That sentiment I definitely understand.