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dland

L.

(Tuesday, Mar. 25, 2003 - 7:31 pm)

Today was one of those twisted, love-hate type days. You know the ones, where all day bad things happen that are immediately followed by really good things, then bad things again? Yeah, well this was one of those days. It started at 0530 this morning. The alarm clock went off. See? Right away a bad thing happens. Well? I hate alarm clocks! I have thrown them against the wall in horrendous tantrums. I did anyway, until I realized how dumb that was, not to mention expensive. Then one of my hated pet peeves happens. I open my underwear drawer and guess what? That�s right. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I let out one of those unintelligible oaths and groan as I trudge back to the laundry room and change over the washer and dryer. I knew there was something I was forgetting before I went to bed, and now we know what it was. Oh don�t look at me like you�ve never done it! So, okay, then I start my shower, and proceed to try and wash my hair one handed. Oops! I forgot. You guys don�t know about the grease fire in which my right hand was engulfed in burning grease and fire, do you? Suffice it to say that cooking fish out of doors is a dangerous sport. I won�t talk about my nasty burns and stuff, cause it�s just gross and all anyway. So there I am trying to wash myself one handed and get all of me clean. Have you ever tried to wash the same underarm as the hand holding the washcloth? Im-freaking-possible I tell you! Yes, don�t laugh, I did try! I was really thankful I lost all that weight, because there was mucho less of me to wash! Anyway, I�m all clean (as I can get one handed anyways) and rinsing off. I�m enjoying the quiet time and just enjoying the water when suddenly someone decides to flush a toilet in another washroom! Now my gonads are burned as well, thank you very freaking much! Now I�m running behind schedule and rushing around. Have you ever noticed that the difficulty level in finding things runs linearly with how late you are? Why is that? I get my uniform on; grab my thermos of coffee and my bag, and then the phone rings.

Its work telling me I wasn�t working today. Arrrrgh! After all this crap I don�t work today. Man, major bummer. I despise the phone by the way. I�ve told you that haven�t I? Well I really, really do. Ironically I have one right in front, beside, or on me 24 hours a day. It rings constantly. It�s not friends either when I answer it. It�s somebody with a problem that wants me to solve it for them. It will be that or somebody wanting money. Either sucks elephant testicles. Not that I know the slightest thing about elephant testicles, other than what I see on Animal Planet. Don�t even pretend you didn�t look!

I decided that since I had more time at home I would put the time to good use and be productive. I changed clothes and took my daughter to school. When I got back the rest of my housemates had returned to bed! What a fine group. I shook my head in (faux) disgust and went outdoors to accomplish something. What, I had NO idea. So the search was on. I walked around outside and just looked for that thing that I needed to do. I guess I expected it to smack me in the face, because I didn�t see it right away. I walked down the tractor path towards the back forty acres. It was gorgeous out today, 76 degrees (that�s 24.4 degrees Celsius for my Imperial measurement impaired friends) and the sun was shining, making it just purrrfect. I decided to do yard work, specifically filling in low spots on the tractor path leading to the forest. The old 1953 Ford farm tractor fired up on the first try. It was looking like a great day. While hooking up the dirt scoop to the back of the tractor I dropped it on my foot. That hurt like hell! I jumped about and made a complete arse of myself beside the barn in plain sight of the roadway. I am quite sure the neighbours are burning the phone lines up tonight talking bad about me. After that fiasco I started in to work and was moving along at a rather good speed when I realized I was running out of fill dirt. My little pile that I inherited (What? You can TOO inherit dirt!) was running out. I had so much more to do, so I grabbed my trusty cellular phone and just dialed up the man at the dirt store. He said they had just received a new shipment of fresh dirt and would bring out a truck load straight away. I was very pleased at myself for having circumvented the tragedy of running out of dirt. I was quite pleased in fact. So, here I am, bib overalls, farmer John hat and all, on my tractor feeling ever so Green Acres.

*singing*

�Greeeeen acres is the place for ME! Faaaarrm living is the life for me! Land spread out so far and wiiiide! Keep Manhattan, just gimmie dat countryside!�

The dirt truck arrives and I sign my dirt ticket. The dirt man drops my dirt in just the right spot, and then pulls out of my driveway. Everything was looking good, until�

She came wheeling in the drive from God knows where with her Mother in tow. I notice that they tend to go in pairs those two. I guess its moral support or something. I hear the car window make that whirring noise they make when you push the button on the inside. I stand there waiting for the dust to finish blowing past wondering to what I owe this visit. That was when I heard it. That noise, that, Mother/Daughter whine that they can make. It only happens when they are together, never alone. �Whaaaat waaaas thaaat dummmp truuuck dooooing heeere?� It was nauseating I tell you. Like third grade girls tattling on each other. They were having a hard time believing I *gasp* paid for dirt! Things went downhill from there, as war broke out on the hillside. I got mad and quit working. Yeah, dumb, I know, but what the hell. I fixed my daughters bike instead, and then hung her swing in the tree in the back yard. I pushed her and listened to her squeal in delight. She is such a happy kid. It makes me long for days of innocence again. They were far too short my friends.

After that, I stomped around the house and acted mad, even though I wasn�t anymore. I�m a guy, and I�m supposed to act like a moron periodically, right? I settled into my office and checked my SETI for cool contacts. After all, you never know when ET will phone back, right? (I wonder if he�ll call collect. Hmmm. Would that piss off Carrot-Top? �Right down the middle, ET! Down the middle!) I then check my email. I read one in excitement from a girl I knew 20 years ago. It started out as excitement anyway. Halfway it turned into sadness. The girl I was sweet on in junior high, and high school, is sick. The girl I followed around Morehead High and carried her books has Cancer. The little girl whose Daddy wouldn�t let her date has Breast Cancer. My jaw dropped as I read it. I have been in contact with her some over the past year, but not before that. I remember the last day I saw her. She was wearing a white blouse with lace around the neckline and sleeves. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a tiny cross around her neck that twinkled just like her eyes. She�s all grown up now and were both settled in our own lives, but she will always be that sweet girl from homeroom to me. Why has this happened? This is not fair! She�s suffered enough in her life without this happening. Someone tell me why this happens? Why must we loose our family, friends and neighbours to this damnable thing? I am sad. I am very sad and I fear for my friend. I am sitting here thinking about time. I am sitting here thinking about things better left alone. I am sitting here, with people all around me, yet utterly alone. I just wish I could hear her laugh. Just laugh right out loud again like she used to. I used to make her laugh, that or she was laughing AT me, and either way would be okay. No, I�m not wishing things I shouldn�t be, just being me I guess. I�m just wishing I could fix things. I can�t do anything for her. Nothing that is, but cry for her.

Hang in there L.

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