Atomictumor

Well, I got some work done.  Like, work work, as in, paid money to sell time kinda stuff.  I never could get the damn phone to work on the lappy, so I had to use the desktop for the phone, and the lappy for the computer work, which meant that I was till tied to a wire.  D’oh.

I’ll work that out, over time.  Not a big deal.

I was trucking along, doing work, getting about 3 hours in, when BJ’s dad called, and I remembered just how much this all sucks.

I forget, sometimes, which is a blessing, but unfortunately, I don’t think her folks are capable of that.

—

I’m in a wonderfully empty house right now, I logged out of work shortly after talking to him, and am drinking in the feeling of BJ.  Just that back of the head feeling.  I’m not talking to her (with my mouth), but just feeling her.  Its nice, and I don’t really feel very alone.

I’m not sure if its really her, tho, because I get the feeling that the BJ I know would be kicking my ass and telling me to get to work.  Not money work, but cleaning up the house work.

BJ always loved it when I played hooky from work.  Always.  She wouldn’t ask me to, per se, but she’d mentally will me to do it.  I was sooo looking forward to retirement, when she and I could have all hours of the day together, to just piss away.

Kinda like those early days.

Ahh, but it isn’t working out like that, is it?  And thats OK by me, right now, at 11:57 in the AM on a Monday morning.  Que sera sera, as I said before.  I’ll play the cards I’m dealt.

I reckon I’ll head out and hook up with some death certificates, and then drop one by the HR lady at work to get the insurance wheels rolling.  Then I might go by Sumgurl’s house and make her husband fix my bike, as she was kind enough to offer me.  Then… hmm.  Gotta be here to get Pigpen at 2, and MastaG at 3, which doesn’t give me enough time to run down to K-town and buy a vinyl copy of A Ghost Is Born like I wanna do.  Mebbe I’ll do that tomorrow.

Mebbe I’ll get some food.  I had an orange for breakfast earlier, in my attempt to eat better and stuff, but it didn’t go far in filling me up.

—

Everybody who came down, long assed and short assed journeys to pay homage to BJ made it back safely, or so I heard.  You guys are the best.  I’d thank you all individually, but it’d take a long time.  Every conversation I had, both in email and in real life, meant a lot to me.  The offers of company, all are very important.  Not sure when I’ll get around to taking them up, I’m still reeling, but I probably will soon enough.

Its also sweet of you guys to worry about the holiday season, but I’m specially outfitted for this in that I never really cared for the holiday season to begin with, and this just made it more… hmm… important, I guess.  I don’t take my friends and family for granted, like I may have done in the past.  I want to make this fun, and nice, and good, and whatever for the boys.

It’ll suck, at times.  I still feel that cutoff whenever thoughts wander toward the whole WTF thing, and thats still OK.  I’m not going to push anything.

Anyway, I’m rambling.

Gonna go now.  Take it easy!

(I love you, little B)

Getting the boys off to school in another 10 minutes or so!  I’ve spent the last 45 in a life or death struggle with the Voice over IP client I’m using to take calls from home, evidently it REALLY doesn’t want to make a connection with the server.  I mean, it tells you it wants that connection, and it looks like its trying to make it, but I think it’s secretly watching football or something.

Its probably all like making fun of me.

“huh huh… dude, hey, IPsec client, look at that loser out side with the headphone on.  He wants to connect to work, he’s a loooser.  I’m gonna watch football now”

So, I called tech support (yes, drink in the irony) but the real tech support guys aren’t there until later.  Unfortunately, while frustration would help, since I do the same thing to other people myself, I guess I can’t really say much.  Sigh.

Ooo ooo oo I could make some coffee!  Ah, and take a shower, yes.

But, I’ll write more stuff here instead.

—

One thing thats been with me, is that now that I’m not writing about BJ, what the hell do I write about?  I’ve set a precedent here that I’m loath to break, doing all this personal writing.  Normally (and you can tell by the archives, I’m sure) the personal writing isn’t so much me.  I like writing, but at arms distance.  I’m wondering when that instinct will come back, if it does.

So, lets take stock of the situation, eh?

House: Messy (actually, not horribly messy, but enough to bug me. Particularly this bedroom.  I really need to get it sorted out.)

Arm: Sore (not sure why), and it feels like I have an ingrown hangnail on the bird finger of my left hand.  Uncomfortable, but things could be worse, right?

Children: Asleep

Loneliness:  Not so the bad in the day, but increasingly irritating at night

IP client: STILL NOT CONNECTING…. CONNECT, YOU SMUG SON OF A BITCH!

Ahem, I digress.

Time to go do something useful.  Adios!

Well, I had a headache until about an hour. I purposefully kept myself from drinking TOO much because, in my doddering old age, I find that I get hung over pretty darn easy.

I wouldn’t say I was hung over today, just had an irritating headache. So yeah, I guess I was kinda hung over. Dammit.

The boys and I hung around, we played with some toys, watched some DVDs, had a Sunday. I used to always get bored on Sundays when I was a kid. All that free time, and nothing to do. I’d get bored on Sundays after I met BJ, but wasn’t quite the same thing. Today almost wandered into the former boredom category.

So, to break it, we went to see Flushed Away at the theater in town. It was a damn good movie, as all the Aardman flicks. I love these kids movies that work in jokes over the kids heads (or sometimes around them).

—

What I’ve been wondering today is the whole what next thing. I’m going to need to re-identify myself, to a certain extent, in order to be a viable human being in the world. I could do a Bowie-esq full on transformation (sans makeup, I look too much like my Mom in drag), or just modify myself.

I’m figuring I’ll let the hair grow out. I’ve been playing with the idea, really, since I cut it off, but BJ liked giving me haircuts, and admittedly, I liked getting them from her. It was a fun ritual. She was getting decent at the way I like it, shaggy enough to look slacker, but short enough to clean up if I have to (which I rarely do). Now that I’m working at home (when I start back to work [Superego: Which needs to be tomorrow, you freeloader]) I won’t have to go into the office, so I’ll be able to grow it out without fear of whitey slapping me down like the scum I am.

Now, a lot of folks from my office read this, so its OK. You guys aren’t Whitey, so lets just keep this between us, eh?

Anyway, long hair, I’m finally going to get my bike fixed, and I’m going to spend my lunch hour riding (since, again, working from home, a lunch hour isn’t too important, cuz I can take calls from the kitchen, and if I spill something on the equipment, well, its MY equipment), so hopefully I can get myself into shape, and stave off that heart attack at 35 I was looking forward to.

Gotta take the high road, brother.

—

I’ve not missed BJ today. I mean, sure, I’d give all sorts of body parts to have her back, but its not happening. Its not a dream that I’ll wake up from, or some kind of soap opera mistake with a twist ending.

The boys are doing great (considering), I’m doing great (considering), and again, a bystander wouldn’t know that there was a dead matriarch of the house unless they happened to hear somebody make a joke about her being dead. That happens a lot. Like, for example, the fact that she totally screwed me out of the satisfaction of being 28 while she’s 30 for 9 days in January. She completely wormed out of that, and is undoubtedly laughing her ass off about it.

She’s a sweetheart.

—

Pictures, pictures, pictures. Daco posted these ones, and those are all I’ve gotten so far. I intended to post a picture of the final product of the canvas art I set up, but I’m lazy. It’ll find its way on here.

Speaking of lazy, I have all sorts of friggin work to do.

I need to get the bike tire fixed.

I need to fix the drain line on the dishwasher, which decided to crap out around the same time BJ died.

I need to clean this dump up.

I need to figure out what we’re keeping, and give away the rest. BJ’s mom wants pretty much everything I’m getting rid of, but there’ll be somethings that I’ll be giving to friends, when appropriate.

Gotta go, hamburger helper is about done. Pigpen is a bull, and is attempting to gore MastaG. They keep stomping, and my Devo record skips when they do. I growl, but I think I may have to beat them up. And by that, I mean wrestle them down and tickle them.

Its brutal.

(Damned technology
I wrote this post once, and it
didn’t get online)

Everybody’s gone
Its just me and the two boys
The way things will be

G’s playing a game
Pigpen is watching “Pirates”
I might take a nap

Bit of a headache
From yesterday’s revelries
Need to decompress

Put the pictures up
That took up most the morning
In albums, away

Goodbye, my lady
Your boys will be safe and sound
Me, G, and Pigpen

We had a good life
Without you, we will also
And I know you’re here

Between the seconds
In the spaces around life
You are always here

Your arms around us
Your breath whispers in my ear
Your love is so real.

Goodbye, my sweet B
Its time to move on, baby
We’ll be together.

Its late.

I am very, very tired.

Today is over.  Today, for me, is a turning point.

After today, it will not be with BJ.  We drank to her, and celebrated her,  and now we’re letting her go.  I saw her off with great friends, some I met tonight, some I’ve known all my life.

At the end of the night, there was an intimate few, sitting around a table, drinking beers, and talking about things, just as BJ loved to do.  I felt her there the whole time, as I feel her now (telling me to put the laptop away, geek, and go to bed).

I had tears in the van on the way home, just two, as I told Nodbob how hard it is that I couldn’t be superman and save the girl I loved.  That no matter how much I loved her, and how much I wanted her, she died.

We spent the whole evening enjoying her, looking at pictures of our lives (all very intimate, BJ and I only took pictures rarely, and guarded them jealously), but at the end of the night, on the late, sleepy drive home, I felt the intimations of my loss.

Its going to take months to figure out what I’ll be after this.  It starts tomorrow.

My work for BJ is now done.  Now my work is just for me and the boys.  Its the 3 of us, a smaller family.  A hand without one of the fingers.

We’ll be fine, we’ll make it, but my life will be shallower without my soulmate beside me.

We let her go tonight, like a caged bird.  She soars above us, above the petty troubles and frustrations and pains.  She is free.

Good night, my BJ.  You can be done now.

I will always love you.