Moving day: 24 hours

I borrowed this Mutts cartoon from Christine's place.

Al Dubois tells us to expect 23.5 more hours of shitty weather, then spring will really shpring.

Creechman is not the only person to link to weather people.

Got the delivery of my Clic Clacks (no idea how they are meant to be spelled).

Did the Lysol Wipes™ thing on every doorknob and light switch and anything else that might possibly have been handled by strangers. And the humongous mirror in the living room, which I guess at about 10 feet wide, was brown with nicotine.

Even a smoker would be disgusted.

The toilet runs. And I have no door on my bedroom. I’m thinking 60s beads are in order. But no; the cats would be clickety clacking them every time they come in or out.

I will have to think about this. Maybe ask the landlord to give me a door?
What a concept!

Spring... SNOW?

We usually get an April snowstorm, but it always seems to take everyone by surprise.

That is why cautious Quebecers are still only talking about getting their snow tires removed.

Other than tires, there is little else to do now that spring is here... the lawns are still soggy, the ground is still frozen. All we can do is prepare for the next snowstorm.

Last weekend, after yapping idly about whether it might snow again, we got a dire (and false) prediction of 30 cm from an Ottawa friend. But then yesterday we found out that the weather forecasters tell us to expect a dump on Thursday of this week.

Man the battle stations! Get your disaster kits ready! Run for the hills!

Oh. I forgot, I am in the hills.

It won't last, anyway. Usually disappears in a day.

Into the mystic

What I wrote about yesterday - the near-overwhelming cabin fever - has finally come to its logical conclusion. I have written ad nauseum about it all and have cried wolf in the past that I am leaving!

Well, this time it's true. Rom and I are in agreement on it at last.

It is unnatural enough to live with a chronically sick person who refuses any emotional assistance. Practical aid I have given in spades, but never without the sneaking feeling that it was received as some kind of due. You also can't expect any emotional sustenance back from someone who is so focussed on themselves and their own soundtrack that half of the things you say go unremembered.

It is even more unbearable to add the physical isolation from society. To be dependent on the comings and goings of another person, to be unable to run errands when I need to. To wake up early and wonder how to fill the day, to look forward to nightfall and sleep. This is not how I am accustomed to living. And there are only so many long walks on silent country roads a person can take.

Over Christmas holidays I was desperately lonely -- and I do not use that word lightly. Sitting in this house with the only adult company asleep for days on end, only to require bedside care when she did wake up; no holiday cheer in the traditional sense. No warm and happy meals with lively conversation, Christmas music, long walks in the gently falling snow. (Oh, I almost forgot: there was no lovely, quiet snow falling during the holidays... a detail.)

Few warm and happy meals or lively conversation occur the rest of the year, either. Let's face it, when someone lies in bed and watches TV all day, what is there to talk about?

I need a part-time job. I need to take my driver's ed courses. And I can't do any of that while I live here. My son has to get to school - a dicey proposition from the very start, since there was no room on the bus and we've been relying on rides that have been sporadic at best.

So I have two weeks to get my shit together (thankfully, my shit can fit into a couple dozen boxes and bags) and find a place to live.

Time for a huge leap into the unknown. I feel like I'm 18 again and looking for my first apartment. Starting over with next to nothing and no idea where to go or how it will work out.

Gulp.

Is this what they mean by "ides"?

It's that time of the year again!

CABIN FEVER!

I'm still only 20 minutes from humanity but it might as well be 20 hours. I can't get out unless rom does and even then, I can't spend any real time walking or browsing because she tires easily.

She also shadows me. When spring is just around the corner, she knows I get cravings. So she makes sure I never leave her sight.

I'm just a wee bit tired of being treated like a 14-year-old.

And naturally, the edgier she gets, the worse things get.

There is stuff I need to do on my own, taking my own sweet time to do it, and being cooped up day after day is not improving my mood. Of course, the same thing happened last year. The return of nicer weather makes me restless. It's perfectly OK for her to spend all day/every day in bed, but I can't.

Anyway, in the short-term, I need a new book to read, I need chocolate, I need to pick up meds, I need to buy food for myself and the Teen.

Hey -- married people out there - doesn't this urge ever strike you? To get OUT, to do something different? (Oh, yeah. It's called having an affair.) What I mean is, nothing quite that drastic -- but don't you EVER get tired of talking the same old shit with the same person day after day, year after year? How can you not scream?