Journal: 04/26/06

I moved a step closer today to getting Joann back home. Bill came up with $200.00 toward the $400.00 I still owe the mortuary for Joann’s cremation. Rose couldn’t come up with the other $200.00, but at least this will keep Joann in place until I can get the remainder on May 3^rd. I’ll have to pay it back when the monthly money shows up because Bill borrowed from our food capital, but I’m use to being broke and another month won’t make that much difference. At least Joann will be home.

I notice that I am both slipping back into my old habit patterns before I started living with Joann, and I’m not back to eating right. In retrospect though, there really wasn’t much change in the way I was living before Joann, and what took place when we started living together, she and I were that compatible. The only difference now is that I harbor a deep sense of loneliness, an emptiness that I haven’t had before, and I can’t seem to fill it. I keep thinking about her all the time, not as a distraction but as a constant and intruding series of memories that I attach to every small event in my day. Luckily, my job at the front desk doesn’t require any precision; otherwise, I might be seriously underperforming.

I seem to need a lot more space these days and that puts a strain on Bill. I was used to a lot of space before Joann, Bill and I moved in together and I seem to be going back to that way of life, functioning in a vacuum, acting as an observer instead of a participant. I think Bill feels shut out sometimes and I try not to do that, but I’m not being too successful at it. He was used to having Joann at home all the time, where now there isn’t anyone on the days I work, and I spend much of my off-hours sleeping or watching television. I try to be up for playing cards when I can, but that is getting less and less.

I’m also not eating well, at least not by historic standards. I’m not eating during the day much at all, though I take plenty to work with me. Dinner with Bill is usually light—for me—though I might have a snack before bedtime. I don’t think its depression; it feels more like "disconnectedness" and affects everything in my life these days, not just my food intake. This too will pass, probably like a kidney stone.

Laundry

I didn’t get the laundry done as I thought I would. So, I took the simple male way out. Most women know that when a guy runs out of undies that triggers a frantic call to "get the laundry done." Males living alone have a different perspective of the subject, sort of like sniffing our clothes to figure out if they are wearable or not. This drives women crazy. Women who have sons relate their significant other’s behavior to that of their male offspring whom sniff their clothes for wear-ability, washed or not. I used to drive Joann nuts by sniffing my socks and jeans. "Do the laundry!" she would tell me, and I would always say, "Tomorrow. I have perfectly good clothes I’ve only worn for three days."

I didn’t have a problem getting the laundry done after we moved out of the original Snug Harbor. We had a stackable washer and dryer there, but after we moved into a single room during the renovation, I used the motel laundry. Yet, I always waited until I had the last pair of undies on my hips before I carted the clothes to the washer. Now, the motel laundry we used was the maid’s laundry. Commercial machines that could take five regular loads at a time. I carted the clothes to the laundry, washed and dried them, and carted them back for Joann to fold and put away.

Sounds simple, but this time I couldn’t do it. Maybe it was the folding and putting away that foiled me, after all, that was Joann’s job. So, I decided to wait until next Monday, when I have my next day off. My solution? Buy more undies, which I did tonight. Problem solved.