Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
Once again today, I am lacking any kind of brain power. I�m convinced my brain is already on the cruise. The good side of that is that I�ll at least be able to reclaim it in Bermuda. The bad side is that we don�t leave for another 31 days.
Not that 31 days is such a long time. Not at all. But still�
I just said no to yesterday.
Tuesday night, I met Chris and Damon for our last Jennifer-as-a-JP-resident dinner at the Dogwood. All day had been a festival of �this is the last time I�ll do THIS before I move�� and I was trying really hard not to become too morose. It was a tough battle.
Dinner was good. Asiago cheese-stuffed, deep-fried black olives as an appetizer. I know. They sound gross. They really weren�t.
Once the check had been paid, Damon headed off in one direction and Chris and I started our last trek up the hill. We sat in the kitchen and talked while listening to the last unlabeled blank tape I�d found in my car. He humored me by drinking a cup of tea. I made intermittent trips to the basement to take care of my last couple loads of apartment laundry. At 10:00, he said goodnight and went to bed. I called the Boyfriend and my mom and then went out to the front porch for a last little bit of neighborhood exposure.
Earlier in the day, I�d received an email from the Artboy. My impending departure from the Apartment was making us both nostalgic. He�d told me that he�d be out of band practice around 10, and to call him if I was up and interested in talking. I left him a message around 10:30, then went back inside and gathered a few of my remaining JP possessions.
At 11:22 (according to the Caller ID box the next morning), the phone rang. He�d just finished conducting some gallery business and hoped he wasn�t waking me up.
We talked until 1 am, about everything and nothing. I marveled to him at how well we get along when there�s nothing at stake between us, when we�re just spectators in each other�s lives. It was the last conversation of its kind that we�ll ever have. Between now and the wedding, I�ll be at my mom�s, where he certainly won�t call at 11:30 pm, and after the wedding, I don�t forsee the appropriate opportunity. Which is okay. It�s part of the change in my life. Part of what I�m moving away from.
But it seemed appropriate to share the last few waking hours of my JP life with him.
Wednesday morning, I woke up with a migraine. Not good. Especially since my medication was at the Condo, packed in a box. I took four extra-strength Tylenol, called Allen and told him I wouldn�t be in at least for the morning and went back to bed.
Around 11:30, I woke up from a head-pounding, sweaty sleep with a strong need to pee. Groggy, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, not realizing that my right knee had fallen asleep and wouldn�t support my body weight. I fell to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut, ripping half my right big toenail off in the process.
I guess the good side of that is that I forgot about my head for a minute.
Once I had recovered sufficiently enough to move, I crawled to the bathroom, relieved myself and washed the blood off my foot. No bandaids, either. They�re with the migraine medication.
At that point, I decided bed was the safest option.
Self-preservation, I guess. It gave me one more day of solitude in what was quickly becoming not my house anymore.
Chris was stunned to find me on the couch when he got home. It was good, though. We sat and talked, shared the leftover pizza from Monday and then he drove me to my appointment with Wendy. It was certainly less doom-filled than the night before, even despite the migraine.
I�ve managed not to injure myself too much today. Of course, the day isn�t over yet.
The Boyfriend and I are off to look at carpet for the Condo tonight. He�s so excited that I�ll be spending the night down there. His enthusiasm is infectious. Of course, the place is still chaos, with piles of stuff everywhere. But at least it�s my stuff. That�s comforting, somehow, in a strange sort of way.
Good weekends, all.
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
