The GirlFriend™ and I are splitting up. So, it will now be The Ex-GirlFriend™. After a brief explosion of anger and a bit of shouting, we settled down, and our breakup is, hopefully, going to be amicable. I do not have to move out quickly or any such thing. Also, there are financial entanglements that need to occur.
However, the most painful of moments is approaching; that of telling The Fuskers™. While I may have drifted away from The GirlFriend™ I have always seen him as my own son, even if he was not my flesh and blood.
In the end, it has been 12 years of ups and downs, of pain and anger, of joy and passion, and of happiness and ecstasy. I have come out the other side a better man for having know Gayle. That we drifted apart is regrettable, but I still would not change my past.
Of course, things are not the best financially for either of us, but I know for myself that I can survive. When I look at my past, what I have overcome, and what I have accomplished, I am certain I will be able to move on, regardless of my current indebtedness.
Just do not feel like accomplishing anything this morning. Oh, I fed myself, had my morning coffee, drove The Fuskers™ to school, and did my usual round of Blogstonia. But, other than that, I have no desire to really do anything. Part of the problem is that I do not have a desk at this moment. I gave my hulk of a desk to The Fuskers™, for which he is grateful to have, and enjoying it to no end. I was tired of dealing with the huge behemoth, so large it took up half the space in a 15 x 15 room.
Anyway, I am in the market for a smaller desk. I have been looking at writing tables, but it has been hard to find one the right size. I want one big enough to house my laptop while still allowing me space on which to actually write with paper and pen. Then there is style to consider. So far, of the tables I have looked at, the finish has either been too yellow, or to dull and dark.
To top it all off, at the moment there is no space in the bedroom because of all the boxes. Yes, yes, it is but a temporary situation. Eventually The GirlFriend™ will unpack the boxes, freeing up wall space for the placement of a desk. Until then, I am stuck at the dining room table, which is simply a horrible place from which to work.
In many ways the apartment is actually more spacious. The living room is long enough to place both our couch and our love seat, along with a rocking chair. It is roomy and comfortable, compared to the cramped space of the house. Also, the two bedrooms are larger than any of the rooms of the house, allowing The Fuskers™ much more room for his belongings, even with the humongous desk taking up one of the corners. Overall, we are in a much smaller home. Yet, I feel more space here.
Then there is the deck to consider. Facing east, I am able to meditate as the sun rises, feeling it's warmth on my skin, listening to the sounds of small town Wisconsin awakening. With the St. Croix and Mississippi confluence just a mile away, I hear both train and barge traffic. It is a special treat to hear the deep bass of the tugboat's horn echo off the bluffs and up the river valley. Included are the geese, assembling in trumpeting gaggles as they prepare for the flight south. This morning I listened as two distinct gaggles, one northwest, the other east, passed by, eventually merging as one down river.
Spent Saturday at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. Unfortunately, the camera's battery charger is buried somewhere in one of the myriad of boxes stacked in bedrooms, closets, or the garage. Therefor, no pictures. I must tell you, though, that The Fuskers™ had a wonderful time. His uncle made him a suit of chain-mail made out of pop (soda for the regionally disabled) can tabs. It was of substantial weight, but he wore it proudly for most of the day. He reported receiving many compliments from strangers.
But he also received a great gift from a man. The Fuskers™ asked some guy, who was with his family, where he had gotten the cloak he was wearing. Well, after a bit of a discussion, the man gave The Fuskers™ the cloak. Our Fuskers™ even attempted to give him $20, but the man told him to pay it forward. So, The Fuskers™ is now thinking on how he will do just that.
After that, The GirlFriend™ bought him a ride on a horse (technically called war horses, but they were so old, they were damn near blind) and The GirlFriend™'s daughter took a picture. Hopefully I can get that picture from her and we will have some pictures to follow.
Okay. We are finally all settled in at the new apartment. However, now comes the unpacking. Thankfully, there is not a dead line by which we need to be unpacked. Still, our bedroom is full of boxes, as too the room's closet. The Fuskers™ room is almost to his liking; there are still posters that need to be displayed on the walls.
Meanwhile, I continue to work two jobs, accumulating just over 40 hours a week. They are, for the most part, 8 hour days, except for Thursdays, which are my double days; working both jobs - Wenden in the morning to do the weekly paperwork, Unity Hospital at night. Otherwise, it is Unity on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday; Wenden on Wednesday and Thursday.
I have to be honest, unlike other bloggers, I find blogging to be more of a chore than a relief. That is why I do not post much during hectic, chaotic times; it just adds to my exhaustion. Now that things are starting to settle into a new routine, I hope to resume regular postings. Although, to be honest, I do not think I have ever posted regularly.
I walked into the family room and found Gayle, my girlfriend, unconscious. She was slumped to her left side, her head hanging over the arm of the chair, with her eyes open, looking at the ceiling. She was still stiff, as a person at the tail end of a seizure. She would not respond to her name, she would not close her eyes.
Needless to say, I freaked. I called 911 and got her shipped to the emergency room. Don't worry, she's fine now. It was heat stroke brought on by not eating enough and the diet pill Alli.
I have to admit, when I found her, I panicked. I thought my girlfriend was dead. I couldn't see any breathing, and could not feel a pulse. But I was freaking out, so I wasn't doing a very good job if feeling for one.
The girl I love was not responsive and now limp as hell.
Nothing is more horrifying than the loss of a loved one. I've only felt this pain once before. In 1991 my younger brother was killed in a car accident. The horror I felt today far exceeded what I felt when I loss my brother.
She is upstairs now, having been released from the emergency room following an IV of fluid, an EKG, and is now full of pizza and Pepsi. She's tired, has a headache, and still not fully 100%. But the tests showed no damage. She is okay. And I know now just how much she means to me.
God, I love that woman. No matter how insane she acts at time, how infuriating she can make me with her incredibly illogical thinking, her almost mystical incantation of denial, and her immensely frustrating stubbornness.
Her sister once described a scene from years ago, when Gayle was having an argument with an old boyfriend. She was so intense and combative that she stood barefoot in the snow for over half an hour just to win the argument. So, when she gets exceedingly angry, I accuse her of being barefoot in the snow.
She was stubborn when she regained consciousness, not wanting to go to the emergency room because she did not have any medical insurance. But having passed out twice more in the ambulance before pulling away decided against her wishes. Even at the emergency room, after telling her the full extent of her condition, she was still angry. Once again she was weaving about herself that incantation of denial, down playing the significance of the event, and pissing me off royally.
Once she was home, and obviously stable, I blasted her on her poor eating habits and trying to lose too much weight. Hard. She got the ass chewing of her life. And her daughter, also frustrated by the illogical reasoning behind Gayle's denial, joined in on the confrontation. Of course Gayle, being Gayle, was once again barefoot in the snow. Damn stubborn woman.
Ah, but she's The GirlFriend™, gots to love her.
I guess I should point out that the last post and this one are from my dining room. It appears that a neighbor has an unsecured wireless network within range of my laptop. The GirlFriend™'s computer does not pick up the signal, probably because of it's age; it is four years old.
As to my connection, it's the first time ever that I have picked up on it. I suspect I am getting a momentary bit of luck, which will last only until the end of this evening, or sometime tomorrow. Either way, I am going to take advantage of the connection while it lasts. So, my posts my actually increase for the time being.