I’ve had a good couple of days. I bought a used (fingers crossed) washer and dryer so I don’t have to brave the laundry mat alone, rode both our horses, signed up for online banking and paid some bills. I’ve also decided to switch furniture in the bedrooms so my bedroom will be in the former guest bedroom and vice versa. Part of the reason is heating this place in the winter is hell and if I have the guest bedroom I can close off two rooms through the winter. The other reason is I’m still having issues falling alseep, waking up isn’t much fun either. I’m hoping a change of scenery will help.
So I figured out how to arrange my new room and the easiest way to transfer furniture back and forth. I might even get some new dressers for myself.
That’s how I spent my night.
This morning I woke up on the wrong side of our bed. A couple of good days and suddenly I feel like I’m back to square one. It took me awhile to figure out why I was a basket case and my friend K summed it up for me after I did a lot of babble-typing.
I’m planning my future, my life, without HIM. It’s starting to sink in that I will never see HIM again; he’s gone, not “absent”, gone, dead, muerto.
Humans have been evolving for thousands of years, and dying for just as long. How is it that during this long evolution process we haven’t learned to deal with death better? Ain’t none of us getting out of here alive, no one ever has. How is it, as a species, we haven’t developed better coping skills?
It just seems impossible that we could go from apes learning to use stick to fish ants out of anthills to our present state of digital overload and not have a better handle on dealing with death?!
We missed something in the evolutionary process I’m god damn pissed off about it.
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