Sunday morning. Diane is running late to take the kids to the Pancake House. Not much of a surprise, there.

I spent yesterday cleaning and painting and assembling the last two counter stools and hanging Cassidy's mirror over her new desk. Have the surround-sound system working with the new television except for the VCR. Have to take a look at that, which means pulling the A/V Receiver out and all that. Again. Arrgh.

Some thunder and rain this morning, that was a nice surprise. I slept on the couch since Cassidy had crawled into my makeshift little nest before I went to bed last night.

Diane slept at her new house last night. It was a great relief to have her gone. I'll wrestle her huge desk out to the front of the house for her and her mental patient friends to pick up. Time to get the locks changed again. Stressed out beyond belief. And for a long time.

I ********knew******* she was going to wash that fucking rag in my new washing machine, I knew it like I know that the sun is going to rise in the east tomorrow, there was no fucking way she was even going to hesitate for a tenth of second to think that some filthy fucking rag did not belong in a NEW, CLEAN washing machine -- it never entered her head, not for an instant, not even once in a thousand years. She leaves that stupid fucking dog with me every day and I feed it and give it water and attention and it never even ONCE occured to her that putting its filthy rag in my brand-new washing machine might be something that anyone with an ounce of brains would object to. She ignores that animal the way she ignored me and the kids for a decade and it never ONCE occured to her that anything was wrong. Jesus H. FUCK.

What an idiot. What an idiot asshole. What a fucking STUPID, SELFISH IDIOT ASSHOLE to wash that filthy fucking dog bed rag in a fucking BRAND NEW washing machine..!!!!! Jesus H. FUCK. How much do I need to put up with? What a fucking MORON.

JESUS H. FUCK. Would ***YOU*** wash your filthy fucking dog bed rag in someone's brand fucking new $600 washing machine? Because you're fucking STUPID AND SELFISH..???

Ordered the new television set yesterday. Also ordered a new telephone and some pots and pans.

I take disasters in my stride
They don't upset me
And those that mean me harm
Are sorry that they met me!

Scheduled a pickup from the Salvation Army. The big bed and its mattress, Flynn's bed and its mattress, some old clothing of Cassidy's, my old Trek bicycle and the tiny bicycle. Keep Flynn's bicycle for Cassidy to ride on. Flynn has never learned. Flynn can't tie his shoes, either. Lovely.

So I need to break all that shit apart and drag it out to the front by Monday morning. Sounds like a party. Keep the couch, which Diane decided that she wasn't going to take with her. Keep it for the time being. As well as the dining room table.

Today the additional satellite receivers ought to be installed and the new television delivered.

Soon she will be gone and life will begin again. I never thought that day would be close.

I'm looking at new television sets online. The old television set is hers. As is the couch, the entertainment center, et cetera, et cetera. Please take it all with my blessing. Leave the kids and my aquariums. Don't forget to take your dog, hon.

Not done yet. Not every goodbye gone, not every shut eye sleep. But, God, it's close.

Looked at cat adoption web pages starting with the Helen Woodward Animal Center. I like cats. It might be nice to have a cat.

It struck me the other night that when my beloved former cat wouldn't accept Flynn (she'd sit and hiss at him) she was history, and the instant I perceived Diane as potentially threatening to the kids, she was history, too.

But Diane *always* comes back, she never has her shit together enough to just leave any setting or situation, so it's not a real surprise that she's somehow back here again.

Life has the potential to soon become far better than it's ever, ever been before.

Ooh someday, yeah, he'll begin his life again...

A week or so ago I had a dream with Whitney in it. I was somehow visiting a house where she and her family were gathered. It was one of those rare dreams that leave you feeling warm and happy once you wake up. I've had maybe half a dozen over the past twenty years. It seemed so real. They're better than flying dreams.

I appreciate that it wasn't real and that whatever Whitney meant to me came and went in real life twenty-five years ago, never to be revisited, but at the same time when I have a dream with Whitney in it I wake up and life seems brand new and shining, it's glorious to be alive, even though she's not in my life, even though my life has gone by without her as a partner. I'm not adequately expressing what I felt that morning.

If Heaven was like one of those dreams and I could get to Heaven by being good, then I'd be good, to paraphrase Stewart Brand. Dreaming of Whitney is as close as I'll ever come to being with Whitney. Visiting her and her imaginary family in their imaginary house was glorious. Even dreaming of being with her was enough to make me feel happy through and through.

Someday I'll have to take a look at my ancient feelings. No one I've ever met has held half a candle to Whitney. I keep chasing pale imitations of her. Was I fortunate to have met her? Wouldn't it have been easier to have remained unaware that anyone as incandescent could exist? I don't want to think about it. I can't think about it. Just move along. Make the best of it.

Heavy rain on Monday

Really came pissing down about 10:30 or 11:00 on my way to pick Cassidy
up from kindergarten. I love rain.

One last test

Test posting via e-mail. See if this works.

If all goes well, soon Diane will move out. Can't happen too soon. That will be like the sun rising after a long, dark, cold night, bringing joy back to the world. I sure have rotten luck with women.