Breakdown In Aisle Six

Well, all of this free time is about to come to a close. I got the job at Advanced that I interviewed for last week. It's in Rosedale and the hours are 11:30-8, except for Friday's, which are 10:30-7. They're paying me $13.50 an hour with a differential from 5-8 bumping it up to $15.50. I must say that I am pretty chuffed about that. The thing that I'm most excited about is the fact that I can wear regular clothes to work again, after not being able to for the last two years (since I left the hospital.). Now, the next thing is to hope I can find something to fit comfortably after putting on weight the last three weeks. I am glad to have had the time off, because I really needed it and I got a lot done, but I also recognise that to be completely without any structure whatsoever is no good for me. All I find myself doing is eating and spending money shopping. Excessive consumption on both accounts. I start on Monday, which means I have tomorrow and Friday to do absolutely nothing, then the weekend, then I start training. I made myself a delicious, if overly indulgent, dinner tonight (half of this eating and cooking has been out of sheer boredom, although I do feel like my efforts at preparing dishes are getting more accomplished and involved.). I made fried shrimp in the oven with plenty of cocktail sauce and steamed fingerling potatoes with butter and herbs. This new job still isn't going to be active enough, but the problem with me getting a less seditary job is that what is less sedintary jobs require people to be far less atrophied than me, without any leadway to work up to being stronger/more active, which is really the only way that could happen, so it's a complete loss for me. I went down to Fells today to see if Sound Garden had any British Sea Power cd's, which they did not, unfortunately, and to get a delicious hazelnut latte at The Daily Grind (best coffee in the city!). Then I stopped in Normal's to see if they had any books of George Hurrell photography (they did have one, but it was $25, so I passed. More text than I wanted, too, and not enough pictures.). There was, however, a book about Fitzgerald's work in/facination with Hollywood and the movies and that was only $4. Unfortunately, I didn't have any cash by this time and they have a credit card minimum of $10, so I will go back tomorrow with paper currency. Earlier today, I started crying in Target looking at Christmas decorations. I'm having Mom and Tony over here and decorating and all, trying to actually celebrate this year instead of holing up and waiting for it to be over as an act of defiant tribute to the enormous loss of Buba and Pop, but it doesn't get any easier. In all honesty, I'm glad it still hurts, I'm glad it still affects me, because if it didn't, if I no longer felt anything, felt numb or indifferent, it would be far worse, it would exacerbate the fear I have of them moving farther away from me. The passage of time (and all of its sickening crimes) striking, yet again. So, I'm glad in my own weird way that it still sucks and always will. Things will never be right, but I also feel like I would be doing them a greater dishonour by avoiding the holidays and the inevidable crying that they entail than just getting on with it. I had a full-on, unforseen sob at home later sparked by watching this video on You Tube that Mom had sent me with footage of WWII and old guys like my grandparents about thanking a veteran. That stuff always gets to me, but today, all of a sudden, it was 2003 all over again (and 2001, and September of this year. I don't mean to short-change my father's parents, it's just that the sun rose and set by Buba and Pop.), with the kind of collapsing crying where it feels like you're wringing out a washcloth inside and caving in on yourself. I was loud, too. If the neighbours on either side were home, surely they heard me. I went into the kitchen to get a papertowel to wipe my face and blow my nose and I stood there looking at all of the stuff in this house, at this very house itself, all because of them. Anyways, I just was reminded that it's always there, beneath the surface. It might not rise up for a while, but it never lessens, and never sinks any deeper, either. The alternative, however, would be far worse.