The distance between point A and point B

I underestimate the people in my life, and I need to stop doing that. Like yesterday, for instance, I had my bed delivered (see previous post), it was 90 f*cking degrees outside and I had an inking scheduled for 3 p.m. Of course, I'd been up since early in the morning, tossing as usual, covered a street party in one of the worst neighborhoods in the county (I say this because I've lived in New Haven, Boston, Worcester, slept in train stations the world over, spent many nights on streets in NYC, San Fran-I chatted it up with hookers there, etc.), and I was peaking in terms of stress.
That is when my father showed up, 20 minutes before my tat appointment. He had a frosted glass jug filled with margarita mix (con tequila).
"Figured you could use one of these before you get inked," he said lifting the jug.
"You figured right," I said, already setting the glasses on the table. I had no ice, so we sat in my new kitchen, somewhere in my new life, sipping tepid margaritas and talking life.
"You nervous?" he asked. Course, I didn't know if he was talking about the tat or the cataclysmic transition that has taken place over the last year.
"Kinda, it's gonna hurt like hell, that's all I know."
"It's only a tattoo," he said. "It's a mile from your heart."
I guess he was talking about both.
So, I was pretty relaxed during the ink session. If someone asked me which section hurt the worst I couldn't tell them. The whole f*cking thing hurt. I could feel the thick rips going across every vertebrae in my back, then out into the muscle in my shoulders, the buzzing at the top of my spine.ZZZZZZZ. I didn't flinch, in fact, I almost fell asleep.
The artist thought that was weird. I had to assure him several times that I wasn't drugged. That I was just tired from what seemed like a lifetime of shattered chaos leaking out of my back with the leftover black ink. Their are ink stains on my shirt this morning. I think that's the last of it.
Despite the burn (think "I fell asleep on the beach for six hours") it ain't nothin' compared to what the last two years have dropped in front of me. I counted, it's two big boots, the sky looks all clear for now.