December 31, 2007
 
you want a piece of me, 2007?

Today has been a fucking disaster. No, I guess it hasn't. When I think about Abortionpalooza Weekend I realize that my life can – and has – dropped much further. Still, I've been pretty brave lately, and I feel especially tested. The sequence, for your consideration:

  1. Clean the house in preparation of a visit with Poppy & the twins. Get a call from Poppy asking for a rain cheque because everyone is sick sick sick. This wasn't so bad: at least I vacuumed my couch.
  2. Go grocery shopping with Blake during lunchtime. Watch his fuse shorten. Insist that we visit Chapters before going home for lunch. Watch him have a complete sobbing meltdown over a mitten in the parking lot. Drag him to the Chapters, to find that the book is not in stock. Drag him back to the car.
  3. Bake brownies for Stacy to make up for lack of present yesterday. Yell at Blake for gouging at brownies with knife when I left the room.
  4. Go skating with Blake and parents at large public park at the centre of the town's New Year's Eve celebrations. Have a good time. (Wait for it.)
  5. Go for dinner with family friends. Have an excellent time. Realize as I am about to leave that my wallet is gone, probably during skating. It is now full dark.
  6. Go with my mother's friend to find wallet. Spend an hour discussing my separation. No wallet.
  7. Go home to find a message from the police: wallet was turned in! Go back downtown to fight crowds and find police officer. No officer.
  8. Find another cop, who tells me to phone the station.
  9. Phone station. No wallet. I am told to phone tomorrow.
  10. Go home. Realize that it's now 10 and I can't drive to Toronto without my licence. Further realize that I will be home alone on New Year's Eve, as Blake is sleeping at Camp Grampa. Think about eating all the brownies. Write journal instead.

So here I am. I figure that if I can live through this night completely alone, cheated & stuck – then I can live through fucking anything.

Bring it ON, 2008.

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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*