March 30th, 2003

Today is the day...

This afternoon we are meeting to have the big showdown/confrontation/resolution to conflict deal with the crap that has been dropped on all of us. With any luck, I can deliver my own message and explain what I expect from everyone before the chum gets into the water, because once that bullshit starts, I'm leaving them to eat each other and never looking back.

It's bloody cold this morning. We were planning on biking after the meeting, but there's no way I can bike if it doesn't warm up. Plus it's windy as all hell and I'm liable to get my ass blown right off my bike and into the Chattamahoochee. Where it is nasty. And toxic. And I'll grow a third eye. Which will be blind. On my arm. I'm stopping now...

It's been a long day

Woke up and started cleaning... Fixed the drain in my bathroom, which was backed up by the scariest hair clog known to man and dog... Went to the meeting and said my say, listened to everyone have theirs, and played mediator... Came home and made a dinner of Cajun lasagne and caramel apple tarts... Watched Six Feet Under and Queer As Folk... Now having a glass of merlot and enjoying the quiet time...

Avery is sick again, she had a temperature of 101 earlier so I have to sleep with one eye and both ears open tonight. Hopefuly she will be fine in the morning and not crabby.

I feel very strange tonight. Beyond explaination, just strange. Tired and weary from this long day of non-stop something-or-other, irritated and stressed out a bit, and generally just down. I feel kind of blue lately. I also feel kind of like screaming until I have no voice anymore at no one in particular.

I found an old journal a while back where I was having this recurring death dream. It didn't scare me in the least, it was just odd. I have a deal with my own mortality and I accept that it will end one day. I've also been clinically dead before, and there is no fanfare or tunnel of lights or people that passed on before you waiting with open arms. I just died on the ER table and went to sleep because I couldn't breathe. I just let go of my fear and accepted that I had no control over not breathing, and went to sleep...

Anyway, in my dream I was falling through a series of plate glass windows. The glass would splinter and shadow from the windows and cut me to shreds each time I fell into a new one and I could feel each individual cut singularly, and feel the warmth of the blood on my flesh suddenly turn to cold streaks as the air passed over me and took me into a new window. I became obsessed with this dream, and somehow became convinced that I would die this way on Valentine's day of the following year. Here's the really odd part. The night of Valentine's day that following year, I was getting into bed and realized that it didn't happen, that I had obsessed over it for months and by the end of that day I hadn't even given it a thought and in a very wierd way I was disappointed.

I decided then that there were no absolutes and that I just wanted to live honestly on my own terms and not everyone else's.

Anyway, I thought it was an interesting story.
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