Monday, January 14, 2013


Last night I got to take a bath in my fabulous new old claw foot tub. It is really a significant milestone for me. On par with getting to sleep in my own bed. Yes. That important.

For the first time since I moved to this corner of East Texas, it became possible for me and my kids to live in our own little Hobbit Hole (I like that name better) without streaking anywhere for baths, to brush teeth, or anything like that. With our toaster oven and microwave we could even make it a while eating some really triglyceride-laden stuff. And fruit.

So I took the first chance I had to soak in a redonkulously long bath. There were no kids here and I locked out the adults from the Big Red House. Buddy texted me nine billion times to see if I was done. I finally asked if he was the appointed bath nazi and he stopped.

Mostly, however, my plan for the evening was to stalk my workstation (who is also named Scat...I wasn't me) and try to determine exactly why the little bugger was shutting itself down every morning. And by "morning," I mean between midnight and 5 a.m. So we're talking really, really early.

So there I sat.

I frittered away my time. I wrote. Balanced all the books. Looked for tax stuff. Munched a bit and at 3:23 a.m. (I know, right?) I heard the telltale "meep" of death that indicated the workstation was shutting down the hard way. Of course it did this when I was using the facilities, so I went running into the office to try and see what was going on. I didn't manage to catch it in the act before the driver for the multi-screens shut down. If I had a monitor from, say, the late '80's I'd know a heck of a lot more about this as I'd be able to see things much early in the boot down and boot up cycles. I was extremely articulate about my disappointment. RAWR.

So there I sat.

This is usually the time at which I realize I've wasted not only a night but most of the following day, so I was in a general funk about the issue and threw in the towel about the whole thing. I was texting back and forth w/a friend of mine who was working the night shift and another who was just in a different time zone and having lunch. I was much disgusted. I mentioned fixing the issue with a sledge hammer and was told it wasn't healthy. Forget healthy. I was shooting for therapeutic.

Then I woke up today.

Not everyone else woke up today. I was told by Buddy that around 3:00 a.m., a man that I had just started to get to know since October had a massive heart attack and died. They managed to get him to the hospital where they pronounced him dead. He had been in town at church just yesterday with his wife and grandchildren. It was out of the blue. No reason to expect it.

I can't honestly imagine or say that I know what his family is feeling or what they went through, but something sunk in me and got very still and quiet. Subdued. I know where he's going, so that's not the issue. Believe me, when it comes to places I want to go, I want to go Home (capital H). I also want to be with my kids, but I know where they're going to end up, too.

Still, when someone passes like this. Out of the blue I feel like we as a community have lost something. As if we're working (hard!) together and a soldier has fallen. How could we ever fill those shoes? We can't.

And what was I doing "around 3:00 a.m?" I was cursing my workstation for simply turning off without my permission. I was awake then when I'm usually not and that now seems slightly significant. It was certainly significant to me that while someone I knew was dying, I was arguing with a hunk of metal, gold, copper, and silicon. This level of pressure that I usually keep on myself suddenly lowered significantly and I rested my head back and thought...

...none of "this"...none of it is really that important.

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