It’s 6;31 AM and I am awake only because I haven’t been to sleep. I was talking with the Mr. tonight about how my Dad picked the right time to die. That sounds so strange to say something like that but it’s the truth. I have a lot of distractions right now: football season, kid birthday, gearing up for the release of Mists of Panderia. Yes, these are all superficial and ridiculous things (except for the glorious birth of my amazing child), but distractions are what’s keeping me moving. If this had happened during tax season it would have been a million times worse. I mean, my god, I still fucking cry about Boris. The Mr. still says “I need to do trash and litter” from time to time. I still expect to see him on the stairs. I caught myself last week saying that Boris should be up here (in my bedroom) with everyone. I loved that fucking cat and I had to put him in the ground with my own two hands and I practically stayed in bed for a week.
Anyway, I’m not over Boris so I don’t know what bullshit was going through my mind that I was dealing with my Dad’s death in any manner whatsoever. There’s only so much food I can shove in my face, video games I can play and football games to scream at before everything falls apart. I am actively holding it all in so that it will happen after Robin’s birthday, after my anniversary (10 years, wtf??), after Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. Surprisingly, there is never a good time to deal with this. FARTS.
There is no obituary and I know there probably won’t be one. It made me think of the song Smoke by Ben Folds Five and the post I made while reflecting on life and how I felt when I found out my Grandmother died. I wrote that post one year to the day before my Dad died. Maybe not so creepy. Maybe a great, wonderful coincidence. Maybe the ever glorious cosmos thinks this is a joke. At least I know what numbers are off of my lucky lotto list.
Since I am annoyed at my own boo-hooeyness, let me take you on a journey called “How My Mind Works”:
See? Distractions do work.