Wendi arrived from her DJ gig, flush with tip money. Woo hoo! I unloaded her van, and now she’s off to the store to pick up things we’ll need for tomorrow and what-not. Then she’s going to hit the hay since she has another very busy day ahead.
Lucky her. Sorta. At least I’ll have the luxury of sleeping parts of my day away tomorrow.
So what do I do, instead of finding breakfast or showering or loading bunny pictures? I get into the Blogathon IRC chat and hang out.
There’ll be plenty of time for that other stuff, right?
Okay, okay. I’m firing up the other computer now so I can hook up the camera. Sorry. There’ll be bunny pics next time, and more will be taken during the day. It’s amazing how quickly half an hour can pass you by, isn’t it?
So last night, realizing I didn’t want to roust the kids at 6am to help take bunny pictures, I snapped a couple of pics while Erica was doing her “tending the bunnies” evening routine.
Ah, how easy it is to crank out an entry. All I had to do was plan ahead, fire up another computer, offload the camera, resize the images, upload to my Gallery…
Oh, heck. This is going to be work? What the hell was I thinking?…
Wendi has fed me breakfast, I’ve posted bunny pictures (though more will come, have no fear), and now I think I’m going to take a Very Quick Shower. Yeah, I feel kinda grungy. The hot spray on my sunburned bits should be invigorating, wouldn’t you say?
When I get back, I’ll commence with the… settling in for 22 more hours of this. Yeah, that’s my grand plan for the Blogathon. I think big, y’all.
Okay, so now I’m bathed. And there’s goop in my hair to make it stand up the way I like. Of course, I’m not bothering to brush it or anything… I should look nice and dorky on the cam for Blogathon.
Yes, I said cam.
Scary, wot? What can I say, I have a weakness for opportunities to show off my goofy-looking mug.
Sometimes it’s as if nothing has changed.
Sometimes it’s a strain to see eye to eye.
Sometimes we just can’t communicate.
Sometimes the fact that there’s a divorce going on jumps up and bites us on the ass.
I’m not trying to “put you in your place.” I’m trying to gracefully move apart, trying to admit defeat and move on with my life. I cannot survive this if I cling desperately to what was. I feel like crap as it is.
I love you. But I’m not going to pretend that we’re not going on with our own, separate lives. If it looks or sounds like I’m pushing you away… I’m not pushing, but I am trying to keep you at arm’s length so I can keep my perspective. Doing otherwise would lead us down a path that can only ultimately bring even more pain. Yes, more than what we’re already feeling.
Perhaps this doesn’t help. Perhaps this doesn’t answer the question. I can’t do any more than I already am, though.
(BlueCalx moment: Hey, you should go visit greyduck.net right now. Yeah.)
