Daily Post 140: All of the Things and a Giant Middle Finger


Sooo… that writing streak that I had… yeah… didn’t stick with it. : /

Friday I got a bike. Woohoo. Warren drove with me to check it out since he has a truck. I wanted to make sure I would be able to get the bike home if I liked it and I wouldn’t have been able to do that with my little car since I still don’t have a bike rack. It’s on the to get list.

I rode the bike around a little, it seemed to pull a bit to the left, but overall it was a really nice ride. From my previous research, I knew I was getting the bike for a pretty good price, and it is in extremely good condition. So yeah, I am now the proud and completely content owner of my very own bike. : 3

Warren took me to the bike shop to have the guys give it a tune up. They said it wouldn’t be done until Monday most likely, which sort of sucked, but what was I going to do? Not get it tuned up? It needed a bit of work with the tires, and I wanted a starting point for its maintenance history. So I resigned myself to not getting the bike back until Wednesday since I was going to be out of town Monday.

Saturday I drove up to Daytona and had lunch with my brother. I cried on the drive up there. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that driving on I4 is the route I would take when I drove home to see mom…

Either way, I remember being tired because the previous days had been draining socially. Crying didn’t help make me feel energized.

Despite the crying at the beginning of the trip it ended up being a really pleasant visit. Jon and I talked about our plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. We hashed out our game plan for Monday since I was going with him to South Carolina as an emotional support and to be his witness in divorce court. We got lunch at Hooters since we had memories of going there for wings with our dad. We ended the day by going to a card shop Jon really likes and played a few games of Magic the Gathering.

While we were headed to the card shop I got a phone call saying the bike was done and that I could pick it up. Hooray! I could totally pick the bike up on Sunday and go for a ride. That would make up for all of the socializing I was forcing myself through.

A really nice, long, solitary bike ride with lots of sun and good music from Spotify. Sign me up!

I left after three games with Jon since I had a card night to go to at Frank’s house. We’ve had it planned since last month, and actually the one last month I didn’t really go to. I went to his house and remade my resume and then went home to keep on trucking through updating my websites and such for the potential job at Corey’s company… Hard to believe that was only last month…

Anyway, yeah… Since I skipped out on the last card night I didn’t feel like it would be right for me to miss this one, regardless of how socially tired I was. Didn’t help that Frank was going to grill a prime rib because of a joke I had made about getting him coal for Christmas. He said to make it charcoal since that grills well. Fast forward through about five minutes worth of Facebook messages and he’s grilling an awesome dinner for me and everyone else. Totally not how I meant the conversation to go, but it made me really look forward to the night. I didn’t want to back out of it, especially when he had changed plans and was doing something special for / because of me.

So, like a diligent, timely, responsible adult, I left Daytona with plenty of time to spare because I wanted to make sure I got to Frank’s on time. Halfway through my trip back to Orlando my front right tire went flat. I was able to pull off to the side of the road without causing any sort of accident, but it still sucked because not only did I have a flat tire on the side of the interstate with no car jack, not that it would have helped me since I have never been shown how to change a tire, but I also found out I don’t have roadside assistance and had to pay $60 to have someone come help me.

It’s another moment where I’m aware of how much my mentality has changed. Just like with the car battery, I didn’t freak out or feel like the world was falling apart. Instead, I sighed, rummaged around for my insurance card which had a roadside assistance number on it and arranged to get help. Falling apart didn’t even enter my mind. Calling other people for help didn’t either. I was going to figure it out, one way or another, and I did.

The guys who came and helped me said my tire blew out in three places. One spot on the outside looked like I had hit something, but I didn’t remember hearing, seeing, or feeling anything odd while I was driving. Just a hissing sound, then “thud thud thud thud” which didn’t sound good at all…

They put the donut tire on my car and said I would be able to make it to Orlando fine, just to make sure I got the tire replaced in the morning before driving too much. Knowing I could make it back home helped keep me from going into a negative, worry-filled headspace.

My mind was already to-do listing it out. I knew the tires needed to be replaced, so I could get that taken care of in the morning before doing all of my pre-trip chores. Maybe I could get the car tuned up too since I was going to be driving for the trip.

I was a little late getting to Frank’s house, but overall it wasn’t too bad. I was beyond grateful for the dinner and drinks and good time which helped me relax even as it drained me of the last little bit of energy that I had. I ended up leaving around 10pm.

Sunday started with a phone call to see about getting the car looked at. With that taken care of, I started painting the baseboards in the office. I also did laundry because having clean clothes is nice.

When Warren woke up he agreed to run around doing errands with me. We took the closet doors for the laundry room down since they prevented us from opening the dryer door all the way. Talk about poor design…

Big Bad and I made plans to meet at a park later in the afternoon so everything worked out pretty well. Warren and I dropped the car off at the shop. That was expensive… but having tires is nice and worth it.

And I mean… if I’m honest, aside from oil changes this is really the first major expense I’ve had to invest into my car. So I really can’t complain all that much. It may have been cheaper to go to the dealership, but the shop wasn’t open on Sunday and I received excellent service from the staff at the Firestone I went to. So yeah, no complaints other than I would have rather not have had to spend that money.

Warren and I stopped by the storage unit to put the closet doors away. After that we went to the bike shop to get my bike. And from there we parted ways. Warren went to the dog park with Bruno and I biked over to meet with Big Bad.

Seeing him was a lot of fun, and I’ll most likely not say more about that particular part of my day.

When we were walking back towards his house it came up that I was going to be biking home and that I was only a smidgen worried about biking so far after having such a long hiatus from biking in general. He said he wasn’t comfortable with me biking such a long distance, which I was only mildly miffed about. The competitive contrarian inside my head wanted to puff up.

Irrational Brain: Screw you! I can totally bike that distance!

Rational Brain: No. Really… You might want to take him up on his offer…

We reached an agreement. He would walk to his house and get his van. I could keep biking and get as far as I could before he caught up with me. After that he would drive me the rest of the way home.

I told him to make sure the van said “free candy” on the side or I wouldn’t get in. XD

I ended up making it all the way to another park a few miles away before he caught up to me. I was pretty pleased with his comment of, “Wow, you bike fast.”

Pardon me while I mentally flex and feel like a badass even though I haven’t biked in literally seven months.

I’ve noticed Big Bad and I spend more time talking. Sharing stories. It’s like when we share coffee in the morning. There’s a comfortableness that I appreciate and value. It also reminds me of how there are a million ways to say “I care”.

Have you eaten?
Call me when you get home.
Put your seat belt on.
I hope you have a good day.

His concern over me biking home made me feel cared for and I appreciated him taking time out of his day to make sure I was safe.

It also meant when I got home that I got a bottle of water then biked down to the bike trail and proceed to do an eight-mile bike ride because I wasn’t going to be cheated out of a bike ride.

I wanted to see what it would be like if I biked to the gym I want to start going to and back. While it’s light outside it’s not bad, but I don’t think I would want to bike the trail at night. We’ll see how that ends up working out, but yeah. Having a bike again is amazing and I love it.

By the time I got back home from my experimental bike adventure the car was ready to be picked up. Jon had driven down to hang out with a friend and messaged me asking if I wanted to do dinner. Warren and I were both hungry, so we all met up at the sports bar for food and more Magic the Gathering while the jocks around us watched football because we’re nerds with no shame. By the time we were done hanging out I was exhausted.

I came home and had wonderful thoughts of continuing to be productive. Thoughts that were banished from my head the moment I laid down on my bed because I pretty much instantly fell asleep.

Monday I woke up and cooked some food so it wouldn’t go bad while I was gone. I also finished packing and doing the chores I should have done the night before. I was about thirty minutes late getting on the road, but all in all, the day was off to a good start.

I cried again on the trip to Jon’s apartment.

I made it to Daytona fine. Jon got in the car with his stuff and we continued on our way. We made it into South Carolina around 9:30pm. After checking into our hotel we went to a little dinner place that we used to go to with mom. We talked for a while. About her. About life. About different things that have happened to us in our relationships, both past and current ones.

We went back to the hotel after eating and slept. Well… he slept. I tossed and turned for most of the night. I don’t sleep well in new places, and I hadn’t had a chance to do a workout so I had too much energy in me.

Tuesday morning came too soon, and yet not soon enough. We both woke up and showered. We got breakfast at a Waffle House. Another place we both have memories of mom at. We went to the place she always took us to get our hair cut. Jon and mom were pretty close to the hairdressers, so Jon wanted to stop by and say hi.

While we were there I got about two inches cut off of my hair. The ends were getting icky.

When we were done at the salon Jon and I went to see a friend of mom’s. Mrs. Terry used to babysit us. I have a lot of fond memories of paper mache and swimming in her pool and sleepovers and warm summer days playing outside. Mrs. Terry was amazing, and she was an extremely close friend of mom’s.

When Jon and I had been in South Carolina for the service we had tried to see Mrs. Terry, but it hadn’t worked out and we had to leave before we could contact her. Since we had time before Jon’s court appointment we decided to try to see her again. This time, if she wasn’t there, we were going to leave a card with our numbers on it asking her to call one of us. We knew she needed to know. Somehow, one of us had to tell her.

We didn’t need the card, though. She was home this time. She hugged me and ushered both of us inside. I was the one to tell her mom died. I explained what happened. We exchanged contact information. Jon and I briefly caught her up on our lives, and she told us what she had been doing. She said she had been thinking of mom and us for months and had never gotten around to reaching out.

I said we had been thinking of her, too.

After we left her house I was quiet, lost in my thoughts.

Me: “You know. It’s comments like that that make me feel like it’s unfair.”

Jon: “Like what?”

Me: ” Mrs. Terry saying, ‘She was younger than me.'”

I don’t try to stop the tears when I’m around Jon. I know he understands. They were rolling down my cheeks as I continued to drive. He squeezed my shoulder and we rode in silence for most of the way.

We went to the courthouse. Jon was nervous. Scott ended up showing up. He’s an ex that Jon dated for a while. Mom and really liked Scott, and I’m super happy Jon has been able to maintain his friendship with him through everything. It was good to see him.

I was sworn in as Jon’s witness, saying he and Nathan have lived seprately, that they haven’t reconsiled, and that if they had I would have known about it. It was the first time I had been to court. It was the first time being sworn in. It was an interesting experience.

Once it was done Jon and I went to an Irish pub for dinner then got back on the road to head home.

The trip wasn’t as bad as when I drove back with Warren, but it was a lot of driving in 48 hours and by the time I dropped Jon off in Daytona I was ready to be done with it. I didn’t get home until 11pm last night.

Warren was awake watching TV. I opened the door, hung up my keys, said goodnight and walked up the stairs. That might have been really shitty of me, but I had nothing left to give. I had gotten maybe two hours of sleep the night before, explained my mom had died and how, gone to court, and drove 7 hours in a single day.

I wanted to be alone. I wanted to hide. I wanted mom to be alive so I could call her and tell her that I had made it home ok.

I didn’t bother doing anything other than crawling into bed. No unpacking. No checking the sink to see if there were dirty dishes. Nothing mattered. Everything could wait. Everything would be fine until the morning.

And it was.

I woke up today around 9am. I woke up tired, but it wasn’t an, “I didn’t sleep enough” type of tired. It was more of an, “I’ve done a crap ton of stuff in a short period of time with not enough downtime” sort of tired.

Warren messaged me around noon to see if I was ok and alive. My reply was “Ded”. His reply of “RIP” was cute. I apologized for my rudeness when I had gotten home the night before. He said he understood and figured I had been done with the world.

I didn’t get about of bed until 1:30pm and the only reason I did that was because my body demanded to be fed because it’s annoying like that.

Bruno sat outside with me while I drank my coffee. It seems to be part of the routine now. I enjoy his presence actually. He’ll sit in front of me and let me pet him. Sometimes he’ll lay down on the walkway in front of me while I lean against the door. He’s a German Shepard / Yellow Lab mix. He reminds me a lot of Diageo, Warren #2’s dog. I’m not much of a dog person, but both Diageo and Bruno are extremely well behaved, and they’re super lovable. The only way they could be cooler was if they were cats.

Warren came out eventually to join the party. Part of me wasn’t ready to talk, another part of me wanted to not be alone. The “not alone” part won out.

I brainstormed my day out loud since Warren was there. I also mentioned that was his “punishment” for intruding on my coffee time since that’s when I normally do all of my planning. If someone’s there I’m more likely to think vocally rather than silently.

I came up with five things I wanted to do today. Only five. I could relax the rest of the day as long as I was a little productive beforehand. One of the things I wanted to do was bike to the post office to check the mail. I was hoping doing something physical would help burn through the tiredness. Maybe it would even start a domino effect as far as productivity went and I would end up getting more done than I had originally thought.

It wasn’t that far of a ride. A little over two miles one way. It would have been a great ride except it wasn’t until I was standing in front of my PO box that I realized I had left the mailbox key in my car… you know… the one I left parked at the apartment…


So… Since there wasn’t much else I could do I biked back home empty handed. I had noticed before I left the apartment that I was out of Gatorade, so I figured all wasn’t lost. I potentially could go to the store, and while out and about for the store I could swing by the post office and still check the mail.

After doing a few other chores that’s what I did. Warren ended up going with me. I was grateful for his company.

There wasn’t anything super important in the mailbox.

Nothing important. Nothing that required any action on my part, but it was still hard to read. It was a letter from our lawyer in Vegas, the one handling mom’s estate. It was a notice that Jason is going to be appointed the executor and that there is a hearing on December 2nd. I only need to show up if I wish to contest, which I don’t.

It seems silly to me to have any sort of pain with reading something that really might as well have been junk mail. I knew Jason was filing a full probate and that he would be appointed the executor. I knew there was legal stuff that went along with that. One of those things being that it could be, but wouldn’t be, contested by myself or Jon.

Seeing my mom being referred to as deceased… reading those words… knowing that someone is going to say my mom’s name in court and on the record she will be deceased… it’s like the Universe taking a shank and stabbing me in the kidneys. Again.

You would think at some point there wouldn’t be fresh places to stab… I’m guessing Life is taking that as a challenge to prove me wrong.

I told Warren there weren’t bills, but that I had gotten the letter. My voice almost couldn’t form the words as I explained what the letter said. The date was the hardest thing to say. It felt like when I had been hiking with Jason and explaining how some days were fine and other days really sucked. It felt like I was going to choke on the date. It felt like admitting, vocalizing, those words would strangle me.

I told him I would have rather gotten a bill.

He squeezed my shoulder, much the way Jon had done yesterday after leaving Mrs. Terry’s house. Sometimes there aren’t words. Sometimes it just sucks and the only thing you can keep doing is moving forward. So that’s what we did.

We went to Publix to do the shopping. Since we were both hungry we went to Jersey Mike’s first. It was in the same plaza so it wasn’t much of a detour and I’m a firm believer of not shopping while you’re hungry. While we were waiting in line he hugged me, pulling me close, and again, I let the tears do their thing rather than fighting them. I hurt and I wanted a hug and I didn’t care if that made anyone else uncomfortable.

I’ve gotten to the point where anyone who has an issue with my tears can go fuck themselves. I’m not staying in bed being depressed and that’s great and all but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Sometimes it still sucks or hurts. The tears help me get through the pain and to keep going and I’m not going to be ashamed of them. I’m not going to hide or feel like it’s wrong of me.

My mom died and my friend was giving me a hug and there were tears. There’s nothing wrong with that. Life doesn’t only happen behind the closed doors of homes or when it’s “convenient”. Sometimes it happens in the middle of a parking lot as you read a letter or while you’re waiting to tell the person behind the counter yes, I would like that on white bread.

The conversation over dinner was pretty non-existent. I was appreciative of the silence.

Publix was super crowded. Both Warren and I were ready to be home by the time we made it through checkout.

When I got home I finished up my to-do list, which had grown to 10 items. One was paying bills. That was mildly depressing. Money normally is. Mostly it’s the Verizon bill getting under my skin and how I’m paying $200 a month because I didn’t stick to my guns and let Zane convince me to get a new phone as a “gift” from him that I’m now paying for. It’s frustrating. It’s something I need to look further into, and I will, just not today.

And so that’s where I am so far. My to-do list is done. My blog is written. There’s still more I want to write about, but that was a lot of catching up so I’m pretty written out, and the rest of the stuff on my mind is more philosophical rambling which really is more of a musing moment than a daily post.

I’m glad about how today worked out. I’m glad I was still productive and did things and that one of the things I did was a workout.

On the subject of working out… before we got on the road I used my brother’s restroom. There was a scale, so I decided to step on it just for shiggles. I normally stay away from scales. They’re depressing. I’ve dropped pant sizes in the past so I know I’m “losing” weight, but the number on the scale stays the same, or in one case actually went up. The scale kills my feeling of motivation so I’ve learned to avoid it.

Well… I guess I’ve lost twenty pounds since the last time I weighed myself.

I’ve been feeling better about myself lately. I’ve been feeling more attractive and more confident and while I know the positive influences of Big Bad and my blacksmith are both factors to those feelings, I also know that my body is continuing to change and contributes to the feelings as well.

I haven’t needed the scale or numbers to feel good about myself and my efforts, but knowing that the changes are for real and not just made up feelings inside my head is… I don’t know… nice, I guess? Validating maybe?

I’m not working out for the numbers. I’m working out because I want to be healthier. Because I want to do a fraction of the shit my DnD characters can do. Because I want to kick ass during my race in February. Because I want to enjoy life and live it fully.

I’m not doing this to have an awesome weight loss story, or to fit in with societies standards. I’m doing this for me.

I haven’t meditated on this information, on this “loss”, so I don’t know where it goes in my mental filing system or what I really feel about it.

I know part of the feelings include vulnerability. I’m worried that it’s not enough. I’m worried people will still say hurtful comments. I’m worried that even if I was the “perfect” size that it wouldn’t matter because haters are going to hate. I’m worried that as I continue to lose weight that I’ll become fearful in my future interactions. I’m worried that I’ll wonder if the new people I meet would have befriended me if I were still fifty pounds heavier and that I’ll let that worry tarnish those friendships.

Currently, this information reminds me of the hurtful experiences in high school which caused me to become self-conscious about my weight in the first place. I’m reminded of when Warren #2 said he didn’t think I worked out as hard as I said I did at the gym because if I did I would have lost more weight.

There’s a lot of things to unpack and examine I guess. I haven’t really paid much attention to that aspect of myself, and I suppose that’s understandable. I’ve been so focused on staying afloat in the wake of mom’s death, and then finding a place to live, and then getting everything situated with that and having Warren #1 move in…

Well… I did all of that and still lost weight. Even though there are things for me to work through and even though I feel small and vulnerable admitting to this change in myself, I still want it to be my giant middle finger to Life and all of the bullshit it has thrown at me.

Me: Fuck you, Life. I can take all of that, figure shit out, and still move forward on my goals.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I’m looking forward to a productive day where I set up a virtual machine to run Mac OS on my Windows desktop so I can finally have Omnifocus again. I’m looking forward to going through my “in” box and getting back to square one with my life. I’m looking forward to maybe picking out the models I want to rig for my new demo reel. And I’m looking forward to my first Muay Thai and Jujitsu classes.

Tomorrow will be a good day.


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