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.
Well, I am unemployed. My census was too low, and with counties cutting back on their expenditures, my boss eventually lost his contract with Goodhue County. That was a sizable chunk of money. With my low census and his loss of income, it was inevitable.
I'm not mad at him. It was a business decision. He has to do what he can to save his company. I will get unemployment, which isn't too bad a deal. I'm not going to have the state take out taxes, and instead will try to schedule payments next year. Of course, we're already half way through the year, so I might just come out even, since I don't claim any deductions on my W2.
Also, he made it clear that once the census picks back up, he'll call me back. That, and if they need help once in a while, I might get called in for a few hours here and there. I just have to claim the income when I apply for unemployment for the week.
On a more positive note, The GirlFriend™ managed to find us an apartment. It's over in Prescott, WI. It's just 10 miles away, so it's not a far move. With her tax money, she was able to cover the 1st and last month's rent. We don't need to move in until September 1st, but at least it's in place. Oh, and Comcast is the Prescott Cable company, so I don't have to change my email addy and such.
So, anyway, I am going to be looking for another job while waiting to be called back to Wenden. Also, I'll be working on packing up everything, and working on my novel.
I am in a piss poor mood at the moment. In fact, too mad to write coherently about being stopped in River Falls by a cop. Suffice it to say, I believe The GirlFriend™ and I were stopped because of looking poor. You know, poor = criminal = drug addicts.
Yes, I kept my mouth shut about being a chemical dependency counselor. Honestly, I know when someone has made up their mind about me. I run into it all the time. I can see it in their eyes, and hear it in their voice. It's my job. And I do it well.
This dick of a cop pulled us over because he thought he had a couple of drug addicts from Minnesota.
Damn, it really pisses me off.
More later.
Well, I finally got around to installing the MT 4.24 upgrade properly. No hiccups there. I also tweaked the layout just a bit, switching the titles to small-caps, increasing the font size, and justifying the text. Hopefully it will make reading easier for those old eyes out there. Not that I had any problem with the small font size of earlier. My eyes aren't old. They're not!
THEY ARE NOT!!!!!!
Okay, that's it. I'm out-a-here.
Oh, and have a nice Sunday. It's warm and sunny here in the wonderful Northern State of Minnesota. So, I'm going to shower, get all dressed up to go hit the town with The GirlFriend™, and have myself some fun. Me and my not old eyes.
Oh dear. The delicious smell of potatoes fried in butter, scrambled eggs, and toast is wafting it's way downstairs. Normally, I make myself a bowl of fruit with some granola, toast, coffee, and fiber (because I'm getting old). But Damn! The GirlFriend™'s breakfast is just making my stomach grumble in desire.
Yup, that she is. This morning she had the temerity of telling me I look like Frank Zappa. I'm not quite sure how to take that. For the moment, I'll consider it a compliment.
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