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To finish what happened after the talking Thursday night: We fell asleep around

(seriously I just puked up my vitamin and glass of water, what the fuck? I'm sitting here and this wave of nausea hits, just like right after you bang, and I'm thinking "am I going to fucking puke, what the fuck is this shit?" Green colored water that tastes like vitamin, ok... at least it wasn't Dial soap, still very odd. I'm supposed to be fasting today, I dont want to eat anything right now, this feeling better go away. So to get back to what happened Friday...)

We fell asleep around 2:30 AM, as soon as he woke up in the morning he was out of bed. Usually we lounge around for a while. This time he says "I gotta piss" Comes back from that "I need coffee" I wake up fully, do some stretches, dress and come downstairs. I make breakfast, scrambled eggs with ham and cheddar. I forgot to mention that after Geoff got out of court we ran errands. I got ticket shit done while he was in court, did that entry from the library, picked Geoff up, took a ham over to my gramma's for her to cook us for dinner, went out to the troop E barracks so they could see I got one ticket taken care of and lift THAT suspension, then we had lunch, then we ran out to bumfuck to get Geoff's last check, they said if he stays sober and gets transportation he can have his job back "But we ain't talking no 6 or 8 weeks here". So that's what we did Thursday. We made it back for dinner with Gramma, played some pool in her apt building rec room, both of us sucked, then picked up mom, who dropped us off at the house. That's when we got busy doing all that landscaping bull shit.

So yesterday, we're up early, 9:30 or so like I'm up today. I cook breakfast and we come back upstairs to eat away from the dogs. We talk a tiny bit, listen to some Cure and start working on finishing the room I'm in. We get the door on the right way, try to do the closet doors but after an hour and a half of fucking with them we concluded that they are pieces of shit, that they were indeed "fucking with us" as Bad Santa would say, and that they generally are a gift from the devil. I got new outlet covers and switch covers put on throughout the upstairs. I found my Perfect Circle and Chris Rock cd's the other night while looking for videos for he and I to watch. We listened to both of those while working. Then it was The Smiths he was diggin on for a while, he kept playing "Mr. Bigmouth..." and I was wondering if it was his way for apologizing for something or if it was a hint for me to stop talking so much. Knowing myself, prolly the latter.

Around 2:30 we went downstairs. I made him a sandwhich and had some cheese on triscuits myself. Over breakfast I wrote down the rules of atkins and the ok'd foods so that he'd be able to help me, call me on my shit. So he's all like "what's with the crackers..." "I already blew it with the coffee this AM, and I like to fast a day cuz it helps with the sugar withdrawl, uses up the sugar deposits quicker, so tomorrow is when I'm starting, OK?" And he drank 2 beers his last day of drinking on Monday. We were eating lunch on the front stoop. Beautiful days, yesterday today and tomorrow. I know he's not gonna come back to work this weekend. I figure he'll call Sunday afternoon for a ride to see his son. Not that he'll ask for the ride, he'll come over do a couple hours of work, take a shower and I'll drive him to the meeting spot.

After lunch I went inside to tackle the dishes (yes there are that many) while Geoff worked on the wooden plate underneath the front door threshold. He'd pried it out the day before and we never did anything with it. I helped him with the sawing part, the horses are all different heights and there are only two vice grips. We got it cut and it fit PERFECTLY on his first try, beautiful. He said it was a cut his dad would be proud of. I told him to keep it up. I went back in with the dishes but had no room until the ones I washed had dried enough for me to put them away, no dish towels around the house any more. I grab some water and head to the living room where Rick hands me a packed "one hitter" (usually I get like 5 hits off his one hitter) and his Zippo, saying that's the only lighter he's got. I went to the front door "Geoff, can I get your lighter?" "Why, are you smoking pot??" He seemed really mad but that's all he said. I didnt say anything. He gave me the lighter though. Smoked up, did another load of dishes, he finished up the door as I finished that load of dishes. I brought him out some water and we sat on the stoop again. Didn't speak for a few minutes and he says "so how are you feeling..." I know what he meant, and so I said "Sunday night you said you wanted to quit drinking, you had two beers after that. I am starting Atkins tomorrow, that was the last weed I'll be smoking, that starts tomorrow too." He smiled and said OK and I sang "Jo says, I'm gonna kick tomorrow, gonna kick tom-orr-ohhh..." He laughed. I said when I do it, I really do it, it's not going to be like Jane. Why does he even care though? It's like half the time he forgets he's not my boyfriend. I don't get it. I can't handle this teeter-tottering.

He dug up part of the lawn my mom wants seeded and I laid on the stoop getting sun. That was abotu an hour. The sun was out for most of the time but I guess wasn't hot enough or whatever cuz you can't tell I got any, and Geoff kept telling me I was gonna burn if I didnt flip over. I didn't burn and I am no less glow-in-the-dark white. It was very nice though, laying in the sun stoned off $65 an 1/8 weed. It was a nice last time to be stoned, and when I finally did roll over, I was dreading it cuz the sun felt too fucking good on my face, but when I rolled over I could watch Geoff dig. Oh I'm grateful just to be able to SEE him, he's that beautiful. He drives me insane. I wanna knock him down and hump him every time I see him. All these housewives in minivans kept driving by real slow like, their heads turnsing and turning nealry snapping off so they too could watch him dig. With the digging done we got cleaned up and ready for my mom to take Geoff home. I wasn't planning on going to his place, it was an unspoken understanding. We spend too much time together for not being a couple.... He's got a friend in from Olympia, WA and some music festival or some shit to go to with the guys. He packs up his shit, kinda sucked seeing the pillow on top, god I am way too attached, my heart's going to get broken again and I'm going to love every minute of it. I asked him to put on the NOFX cd I like best, the newest one, and we punked out on the stoop in the sun in the middle of white suburbia, the least NOFX-y place in the entire WORLD, watching all these soccer moms in minivans go by meanwhile we're yelling along "Helen, sleeping in her car, tryin to feed her kids!" Good times. Mom showed up an hour late but it was still too soon for me. We dropped Geoff off and there was no eye contact, of course no kiss.... "I'll call you tomorrow about working" "Please don't drink." And he went in the farmhouse. We had to stop by the bar to get money Rick owes my mom. Melissa asked if I wanted to hang out, first she was saying she might go into Rochester to the east end fest, which I would have gone to but she was staying in Canandaigua for the 4th friday fest, no thanks, went home, popped some pills and hopped online, chatted with aunt sue and bill for a while, walked down for my last pizza which was awesome, sat in the same booth Lon and I always sat in, the one where I told him I was leaving him and he just shrugged his shoulders and finished his pizza... I sat there a bit feeling sorry for myself thinking "I wasted a squirt of Tommy Girl for this...."

I woke up with this written on my arm "no miracle wake morning, miracle make back bed" though it's raw, I can get the gist of what I was trying to tell myself in the middle of the night. People say "it's a miracle I wake up in the morning." Shit, for me it's a miracle if I make it back to my bed at night. But not anymore, so I dont know why I'd think to write that on my arm in my sleep. Maybe the pills, ay? No more pills. No more trouble, no more drama.

After dinner with my gramma she says she wanted to go to the native american festival up at the Ganondogan holy site, but that she wouldnt eb able to go. I asked why and she said cuz she didnt have a ride, I said "gramma all you need to say it 'Hey Jo, let's go to theindian fest this weekend' and then I'd say 'ok gram, when do you want to go', it's not that hard" she said "no, you're too busy, I can always go next year" which surprised me cuz it was something positive abotu living longer but really I'm 90% sure she was being sarcastic, she's just like me (rather I am just like her) afterall. I will get her to the festival if I have to CARRY HER. Everything I love is dying or falling apart at the same fucking time, and I'm going to fucking crack like cobain. Hard work, dirty sweaty mind numbing zen-like hard work... that's what I have to do to get through this fucking summer of death, Boggy and gramma, my dad sick as well, all at the same fucking time, it's not possible... this is probably the hardest thing I've had to endure, watching people I love die slowly. Enjoy the time I have... racing the clock.... When I made the racing the clock comment, Geoff's only response was "You need to be way more optimistic, I didn't say anything about not liking you and not wanting to be around you anymore" ok Geoff, I'll trust you for now. I'm a fool.

Good talk with Daniel last night, he said he misses me, asks how gram was doing (he wants her to hurry up and die so I can move out to california, he thinks this but doesnt say it) asks if I've gotten enough pain from being in another relationship yet, and I said "never enough pain" But it really is worth the pain, I hope it stays worth it. OK I need to get mother fucking MOVING, cuz like, rust never sleeps.

Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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