(no subject)

The weather is balmy here. Last night Christine and i went to take care of the neighbor's cat, then walked a variation of our nighttime walk called "Where will [Elaine] park the car Monday and Tuesday night since the complex is being patched and paved?" One of our cross streets does not allow parking from 2 am to 7 pm. On the other, there is a stretch of parking that was almost all full last night. As we investigated in short sleeves and with the sound of crickets, Christine remarked how much it seemed like a summer night. The waxing moon was quite bright; i expect it will keep me company as i walk home Tuesday night from where ever i find to park.

This morning was lovely, too. As Christine finished getting ready, i walked over for a last cat feeding. Patches was in the window: a first time for me to see him out from under the bed. As i walked back, i witnessed the caravan of heavy duty pickups and porta-potty trailer and orange reticulated equipment arrive. We'd discussed whether to let Edward roam: we decided he knew to come in when mowing happens, he'd come in for ripping up of pavement.

She and i are so different: i can't relax until i'm packed and everything ready. She was able to relax with me off and on yesterday afternoon. I had no idea she hadn't packed as we sat and watched a show in the long rays of the late afternoon sun. "I guess i should go pack," she said after the episode of "Cornwall Exposure"/Doc Martin ended. My adrenaline shot through the roof.

Despite feeling fragile and tender all yesterday afternoon, i felt the presence of my businesslike self this morning as i meditated in the early dark. I'd slept well, for which i am very thankful, and i managed not to be too panicky about the work left unreviewed Friday afternoon. I let myself sob and scream in the traffic crawling southbound on 101 after dropping Christine at SFO, and i'm back together.

It's been hard for me to learn that experiencing my feelings doesn't have to overwhelm my abilities to get things done. A friend recently wrote about feeling he could cry and cry forever. I've been there. I know there's so much packed up from my history, that a little of my grief at seeing Christine go is also a little grief for the years we lived apart.

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The last time i wrote about 2.f&f was 22 Oct, three plus weeks ago. ( planning )

Healthwise: ( running through the list )

Just as angry at myself, i think

Dear Essence of Flaky Guy,

"Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part."

Giving us a deadline of "end of business" today (What time zone? We'll assume yours.) in a Sunday email and then IMing at 10:30 am to ask where the document is is pretty annoying.

Me

Of course, i knew this had to be done, and i could have been working on it on Friday. I was in paralysis mode, though.

Feh.

(no subject)

I just went and looked at the caller ID on my boss' phone. He's talking to somebody -- his boss, it turns out -- about the stuff that had me overworking the first week of this month. "That's not fair," probably got my attention. I'm feeling a touch of vertigo.

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Now we're both planning on avoiding the Quarterly Report work.