Where it started....
Where it started….
I am sitting in Chautauqua park, where my Fairfield adventure started” not the first REMO was ever there,but the first place I stopped only way into town with Jo, three cats and two dogs. The cats had not been outside their crates in about three days, and they were gross, covered in tieir own excrement. A this point in the journey, Jo was driving: in fact she had driven almost ll the way from Colorado to Chicago, thence here. She doesn’t like how I drive when there are animals it he car. It’s probably a safe bet she doesn’t like how I drive the rest of the time either. I can’t remember the specific topic of what led us here, but I know the structure well by now. I think it was, I think, something to the effect of how could I have lied about loving her, and we are not going any further without me answering her question. I knew we were in fairfield, and that there was at least one friendly face here for me in Diane. I said I was going to talk to her, that I wasn’t going to go into any of Jo’s endless interrogations or making any decisions until I talked to Diane. When Jo refused to g any further, I pulled out my phone and told Diane where I was, and tha Jo wouldn’t go any further. Her bluff called, Jo drove us the last half mile to Diane’s house. When we got there, I was eager to get the cats bathed, I was embarrassed at what they had been subjected to - tossed into a crate, shuttled around like baggage, stacked in Sara’s living room while the dogs had a little bit of freedom, and then driven even further cross country. Jo insisted on doing the grooming herself, pushing me aside. We worked together to get the task accomplished - Jo and I seem to be able to work together, we just don’t seem to be able to BE together. We ended up having a conversation under an oak tree, pondering why there were acorns and walnuts on the ground. Diane mediated’ and I felt like I had a chance to speak without being interrupted for the first time in many many months. That night we slept together, and things got confused - I was resolved when I got to this park I was going to unload Jo’s crap, and head back to Colorado the mex t morning. I really should have packed the cats back up and driveback west, sleeping as I could in rest stops. Instead the next morning, everything was confused and I decided to stay here to try to make a go of a living and the relationship that had been so tumultuous.
So here I am again. It’s been less than a week that I decided to surrender to what seemed a preponderance of people who think I am bipolar and need to be medicated. I don’t expect miracles, or maybe I do. I have been meeker than usual, and I thought things might be going better - I started some wine and mead the other day, it seemed that maybe things might turn out ok. That has come crashing down, I feel like a fucking idiot. Jo says that the last three or four days I was supposed to take some pictures, maybe some video, of her technique for making armwarmers that have a single line of curlicues to make them look like a hostess cupcake to matching some cupcakes she has been making. Apparently I was not Johnny on the spot enough, and there have been some other distractions (“can you fix pastor Suzy’s computers?”) and now she is pissed off at me because I wasn’t there to do what she needed done. Did she say “hey, take some pictures of this please”? No, I’m a 50 year old mani she doesn’t have to tell me that. Except yes, she does if she wants them done. There were a few times and I guess I was supposed to, when presented with her progress, say “hey, I should take some pictures f that. Except I didn’t, and now today I am paying the price of”not being a partner” for the last few days. We had a long heated conversation this morning, first thing. I’ve been crowding her in bed, and apparently I am too much a chatterbox, and I am fixating on having to take drugs for this condition of mine. I’m sorry, I’ve never had to take drugs of any kind for any longer than it takes to beat an infection with antibiotics. When I have had pain killers for surgery or something, I quickly reverted to my drug of choice, pot. So today I went to work on pastors computer, and it didn’t go well, both in the work itself - I was presented with impossible requirements - and in that we whole time Jo was hounding me with texts and phone calls howling about how she wanted me back at the apartment to take pics or something.