You know sometimes you just… you have to do something, right? Something that feels so absolutely necessary, like if you didn’t, the world would just… crack open? Even if it means doing something you know is really, really bad for you. I don’t know if this counts as a confession, maybe it's just me trying to make myself feel better or something. Anyway. I missed a meeting. A BIG meeting. (like, the biggest of the year, probably). It was scheduled for 10:30 am, Tuesday. I had everything prepared, all the reports were printed, stacked on my desk in the right order, I even had my lucky pen ready. And then my dad called at 8:15. His cough had gotten worse overnight, and he sounded really out of it. He’s 88, and he's been having trouble breathing for a bit now. I know I shouldn’t have done it. I know. My brother lives closer, he could have taken him. But my dad, he just wanted me. He always says I make him laugh, even when he feels like crud. So I drove him. All the way to the pulmonologist, forty-five minutes each way, plus the two hours we were there. Dr. Evans is great, but she takes her time. I kept looking at my watch, every ten minutes or so, seeing the time just tick, tick, ticking away. I even got a call from my assistant around 10:45, a quick text after that – 'where are you?' and I just… ignored it. My phone was on silent anyway. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at it for another hour. By the time I dropped my dad off back home, it was almost 2. The meeting would have been over. It’s definitely going to set me back. I mean, I’m 56. I’ve been at this company for twenty years, almost. I had a path, you know? Something to show for all the sacrifices. All the art classes I skipped, all the gallery openings I didn't go to because I had to work late. This job, it was supposed to be my practical side winning. My big, successful chapter. And now… now I just feel like I threw it all away for nothing. (he's fine, by the way. just a bad chest cold). But the feeling, that’s still there. This gnawing in my stomach. I just keep thinking about that watercolor set I bought myself a few months ago, sitting in my closet, still unopened. Sometimes you just wonder if you made the right choices, all those years ago. If any of it was worth it. I don’t know what’s going to happen on Monday. I just… I don’t know.