I'm going to leave you to the weekend with a story. It's about me - all my good stories are.
Anyway, on Wednesday, something bad happened. It's a long story but basically, it comes down to an issue with my bar admission application. It got me super frustrated so I needed to vent.
I decided to call my dad. And, as I'm talking to him, the frustration starts bubbling over and I start to cry. It's like the stars are aligning and telling me, "Don't become a lawyer."
So, my dad, like many dads I imagine, got uncomfortable with his daughter's tears and told me a joke: What has a bottom on its top?* And the joke got a giggle outta me.
With his fatherly duties dispensed, my dad starts a new topic of conversation. It went like this (names changed):
Dad: So, when was the last time we talked?
Me: Early last week, I guess.
Dad: That means you haven't heard then, right?
Me: Uhh, I guess not.
Dad: My Wife caught the house on fire and we're living in a hotel.
No joke. His house caught on fire.
(haha, okay, it wasn't as bad as this image portrays)
So, I ask him incredulously, "Why didn't you call me???" And he says, "Well, what were you going to do about it?" Well played, sir.
And there it is. My perspective. I was complaining about a delay in my bar admission and my dad is living in a hotel due to the fact that his house caught on fire.
13 minutes ago