Day 2: Sunday

Holy crap! Everything hurts!
Okay, so when I woke up Sunday morning, I was feeling less-than-hole-arific. (Everyone does sometimes.) Luckily, my dad needed a wingman for a 9 hour round-trip day-trip to see my grandad. As I hope many will agree, I am a wicked good wingman.
Being the wingman consists of: getting sunglasses out of a bag, working the radio, and taking hits for the team, and by team, I mean the driver. For example:
Dad: Kerry, could you open that bottle of seltzer?
Me: K, Dad.
Dad: Do it sloooooowly.
Me: I know Dad.
Seltzer: Fuck you Kerry! (BOOM!)
At which point, in a panic, rather than CLOSE the bottle, which would have been the intelligent BA-wielding thing to do, I wrapped my body around it so that the seltzer would only explode on me, the ever-suffering wingman (wing person).
Dad: They let you graduate college?
Scary isn't it?
Another duty of the wingman is to fiddle with the radio. A good wingman is never satisfied until they have run through the dial several times. For the record, there is NOTHING to listen to between my house and my grandfather's house. In fact, in one section of the drive, there literally is "nothing", not even static. I *did* manage to find the FOXWORTHY COUNTDOWN OF AWESOMENESS! (I added the "of awesomeness".) It featured songs like "Redneck Woman" ("I leave my xmas lights on all year, i'm a redneck woman! All my redneck ladies say, HELL YEAH!"), "Girls Gone Wild" by Travis Tritt (I *so* plan on downloading this!), and "It's 5 O Clock Somewhere" ("It's only 12:18, but I don't care.... It's 5:00 somewhere").
Seeing my grandad was pretty chill. We watched the Red Sox game. They won (woot!).
Then, it was BACK IN THE CAR! for the 4.5 hour return journey.
I chilled with some Bloomfield peeps in the evening (slash/ early morning) which was a nice reminder that Wesleyan and all things related are insane. The end result was that I got to shift my friend's pickup truck home (with plans to actually learn how to drive it in the future hopefully) and made tentative arrangements to play paintball with my Navy friend and some Marines who just got off a boat in the city. I think I'll lose that match... =)
Anyhoo, these were all the ways I did NOT dig a hole on Sunday. Monday dawns bright and overcast.
Well, fuck.