Atomictumor

Well, that was me, in the kitchen. More on that later.

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So, today was a day chock full of everything, except the kitchen sink (the sink was yesterday).

After going to Pigpen’s little singing thing with my folks, Damama and Biscuit (and being mightily entertained), we went to the Time Out. As the astute tumor reader knows, I had breakfast, so I didn’t order anything. The gal there, however, slipped a hot dog to me, which I ate. It was tasty, and I was full.

Then we went and bought a dead tree to adorn my living room! It smells Christmassy, which is the best part about this whole arbor massacre thing we have going on here. Not that I’m opposed to killing trees, mind you, I just think its an odd tradition…

Anyway, here it is, in all its treeish glory:

However, I think this picture puts it a bit more in perspective:

Why, YES, that is a chrome Santa on top of the tree, along with a few silver disco ball ornaments…

BJ and I have enjoyed the red and white disco tree for the past couple of years, and its a good tradition to continue. I wish there was a way I could mount some lights behind it, kinda make a show out of it. I mean, if you’re going to do something, why not do it right, eh?

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MastaG and I set the tree up after picking him up. My folks had left just prior to that, because Mom had to be back in Georgia at 5, but they left him a little note, and it made his day. Pigpen fell asleep in the car on the way home from picking G up, like a good boy should, and G and I watched cartoons and decorated the tree.

Then I wrapped the presents we have. Some of them under the tree were gifts to the boys from a few friends at the Preschool, and I think thats freakin sweet. Thanks, Trish and sis.

When Pigpen woke up, we swung by BJ’s folks house. I’ve been toting around those big assed rubbermaid boxes with BJ’s clothes and shoes and stuff, having forgotten to drop them off previously. I said that I wanted to give them away, but I kinda changed my mind. I don’t know why. I mean, I feel like they should be worn, but I’d sure hate to bump into somebody wearing them.

This thing is still hard. This morning was good, it was a lot of fun, and all day was good, but I was exhausted by the time I got to BJ’s folks house, and I really didn’t have much to say. We ate dinner with them, and we all had a good time.

Being there makes it harder to avoid the reality of her death. I think thats the root of all the concern towards her folks that I’ve had. I see reminders of her at home, but they make me smile, with good memories, or fun times, or something like that. It seems a bit more solemn there, and it depresses me.

I yearn for her. On the drive home, I thought about all the times we drove that way. I liked to squeeze her leg every once in a while while driving, the van was just the right size for me to rest my hand on it, and I tried to remember that sensation. I still can, but I know it’ll fade away, just like everything else.

Thats why its easy for me now, I think, because I can still create a facsimile of this stuff in my head. I think when I confuse myself in the future, when the impression in there is so old that I can’t trust it, then it’ll be ugly.

I miss her more when I’m tired. I think its like herpes, in that regard. Eat well, get plenty of sleep, and your grief won’t flare up quite as bad.

Sure.

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Speaking of eating well, I’ve gained back 7 of those 10 pounds lost when BJ got sick. Sigh.

Still continuing with the orange eating, sit ups, and bike riding. I find that sit ups are easier every day, so maybe I’ll just convince myself that the extra pounds are muscle.

Yep. Muscle.

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Oh, yeah, the foot. Bet you’re wondering about that.

So I got athletes foot like 4 months ago. I bought that creme stuff, and it worked with the itching and whatnot, but over the past couple of months I’ve developed like a big scab there. Its just a think crust of skin. I clip as much off as I can, because it irritates me (doesn’t hurt, I just want it to stop being there). I got irritated at it tonight, and gave it the bandaid treatment… I grabbed an end and yanked.
And it bled. Copiously.

I knew it was bleeding as I went to the kitchen to get a bandaid, but just didn’t know how much. Three bandaids later, and the tiny bleed in my foot appears to be clotted.

Yay for modern medicine!

Man, I’m having a damn good morning, and this is how:

1. Drop children off at school early.
2. Go to Morning Becomes Eclectic, find a good band, listen while carrying on with following steps (damn, the internet is nice.  Right now, I’m downloading something for the Biscuit, working via my little bluetooth headset of doom, typing this, and listening to streaming audio… i digress).
3. Do sit ups while logged into work.
4. Fix eggs (2), grits (1/3 cup cooked), toast (2 pieces), milk (1 cup)
5. Take shower
6. Eat said breakfast.
7. Drink two (2) cups coffee.
8. Write about how nice it is.

Not sure what comes next, but in about 15 minutes I’m going to see Pigpen’s class sing, and thats’ going to be pretty fun.  Later today we might FINALLY get a tree, although I think I’ll be lazy and just get it locally rather than head over and kill the tree myself at Skunk Ridge.  Man, I really don’t like this whole Christmas decoration thing.  Last year, our tree sat out in the backyard until March.  We’re those kind of people.

Well, I am.

So I closed down the BJ Memorial fund yesterday (which would explain why, y’know, the link is gone).

I donated 10% of it to Doctors Without Borders, and feel pretty good about it.

Today is the first day this week I’ve gotten up when I’m supposed to and logged into work.  I couldn’t sleep too well last night, I kept waking up wondering about things. I actually had dreams that I was checking the comments on this little website (with its new skin).

I’m a dork.

Today will be a good day.  Really, lots of these days are good days, if I have the patience and eyes to see it.

Patience has been a real issue for me.  I get very irritated at the smallest things, driving, for example.  The kids, for another example.  I try not to let it show, but it gets on my nerves.  The ol’ “deep breath” trick seems to be helping a little bit, but still, that anger thing is full on.