My Dramatic Tendencies

I'm out on my afternoon walk, chatting with my mom, and she mentions that my Oma is going in for surgery tomorrow.

"They didn't tell you because they didn't want to disrupt your life," she says.  "They only just told me last night."

"Uh huh," I say, squinting at the leaves doing their best to shade me from the merciless sun.  "What hospital is it going to be at?"

And she tells me, of course, because she knows exactly what I am thinking.

They're supposed to be there at 0500- and Olympia is a two-hour drive from where I live.  I do not fancy leaving the house at 0230, so I'm going to head up there in a few minutes.  And sure, I could just appear on their doorstep and sleep there, but the show-woman in me knows it will be much more dramatic if I'm waiting for them in the morning.  Which means I am booking a hotel- and sure, it will also be less stressful on my Oma not having to worry about playing host to me, but really- it's all about dramatic timing.

Quickly!