journal

Widowhood Season 6.2: Stream of Consciousness

Again with the music. Can’t help it, though The Specials are as comforting as Steely Dan.

It’s nice to be able to be weird yet productive at work. Fun, too.

The 91 is only tolerable when I use the Fastrack lanes. Better when I can use the carpool lanes as well.

Sweetie is a key player in all seasons thus far. Especially the Pilot and Season 1. He walked in, and my life began again. But he’s never been “my world” the way Kevin was. This is an upgrade, not a replacement, because Darling is here too. Makes it easier to keep my head in the present this year. It’s also making me feel like I need a change of scenery. We need.

Tomorrow’s Girls is a fun song. I need to find my Kamakiriad CD. It’s a good concept album.

Sigh, the jazz I discovered from 97-00. It’s like cuddling up on a comfy couch–never gets old.

The hardcore CD I got last weekend is good driving home music. The drive home is to transition from work to home. Music is part of that.

My country turns 245 on Sunday. Driving down the main drag of where I live this time of year is the Presidential portraits. They’re banners now, and the range is much longer than it used to be. I remember when it started up the block from where I am right now, with an unflattering picture of Regan. I think he’s the only President in my lifetime to get shot. Right after Lennon too.

I should sleep, but I feel like I have less of an excuse not to write if I can post from my phone.

i miss him. And the fun times. But it’s

Funny how you like a song for ages but one day you look up the lyrics and you really get why you love it on another level.

i definitely need to dance more.

The music I got from Kevin is part of me. Very few painful reminders. Maybe the meds help? I don’t want to be on them forever.

Pat Metheny and Michael Franks are the deities of lazy Sunday mornings of another lifetime. At least they still invoke that feeling in me. It’s comforting.

Oh and it took me far too long to know Tal Wilkenfeld was quoting Metheny. She’s amazingly talented.

The pain of losing life as I knew it is still hard. It’s like a scab that never fully heals. You end up removing the scab randomly and have to let it build up again. Or it’s like finding a scratch on your hand by using hand sanitizer.

I’m learning to live with the scab and leave it alone most of the time. The emotional pain is not as intense. I can be logical about it a little bit.

After midnight? I guess I need to shut down my brain. Or at least stop looking at a screen.

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