It's The Middle of the Week

And my mind is blown. Lunch was good in a rather surreal way. PoD was extremely hungover (out last night with a friend about to go to Afghanistan). Gerhard's totally gorgeous baby was the star of the show. I was late, but PoD called to see where I was (he was early, and feeling rough). I was glad he called since I was running late and A. wasn't sure if he was even coming and B. he was able to tell Gerhard I'd be late. Which he did. Apparently he said "It seems our Canada is running a bit late". The "our" was noticed by Gerhard.

More on lunch later, but I am heading to bed. I am a little overwhelmed at the moment, not because of lunch, but because Gerhard met me for a drink after my flute rehearsal this evening. We talked. I've bared my soul to him before, and got a couple more things out on the table tonight. And forced him to rehash ancient (and not so ancient) crap. But he revealed a couple of things this evening. I completely welled up in the bar (poor Gerhard! He really felt bad). It wasn't a bad thing, though. It made me realize that I was not completely crazy to have read things the way I did, even with misinformation telling me otherwise. And it validated a whole bunch of stuff that I had believed but never been certain about. It was a bittersweet kind of thing. And yes, being the girl that I am, I cried on and off all the way home, with periods of laughter. Damn good thing I was alone in the car!