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What's next?

July 7, 2005
Filed under:Real

Please don’t ask. Please don’t judge. Please don’t think you know jack shit about this, you weren’t there. Please let me write this and just get it out.

Thanks.

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A Moving Sale on Saturday, people watching, collecting cash, experiencing an eerie sort of detached loss each time a once-valued item is carted away by someone I’ll never see again. All in all though, it’s just stuff, and not the actual memories associated with it. I’ll always have those. What’s ahead of me is worth lightyears more than any one inanimate thing I could ever have.My wife means everything to me.

My mother does as well. She is not well though. No one knew. How could we know?

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Monday started a string of hours and days that I’m still in the midst of and only partially aware of. I am burnt.The questions, the unknowns… they remain.

\”What did she do and why?\”

\”What did she ingest? Pills?\”

\”What was her intention?\”

Propylene glycol. Hyponatremia. Two phrases that I’d never heard before this week and I’ll die happily never hearing again.

I am sick of doctors and sick of long, smelly, hospital corridors, but the ICU’s waiting room has high-speed intraweb, saltwater aquariums, and FREE coffee that is quite good. Comfortable couches as well. I ate a $2.80 meal at the cafeteria that was worth exactly that, but made me Not Hungry. The nurses, JB and Shawn, have been awesome. I apparently don’t really need sleep. It’s a real pity that Marlboro Lights offer no nutritional value.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

FUCK.

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Last night, my friend Robert paid a visit. I hadn’t seen him in many months, but he dropped by to check on me and let me know he’s still around when I need him. He loves The Mom very much. Always has.I spent this morning getting my balls fondled by a woman who is not my wife just so the Dept. of Immigration can tell the Aussies that I’m not going over there just to get sick and die on their dollar.

I’m spending this afternoon at work, back for the first time this week and pretending to be productive though the charade is more for myself rather than my co-workers, as they know I’m not doing shit for a while and are leaving me well-enough alone.

I’ll spend this evening helping to get The Mom settled back into her and LifePartner’s house. An attempt may be made to piece at least a bit of this horribly complex puzzle together, but I can’t say for certain.

This Shit Sucks.

Wish me luck.

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