I swear, I'm not dead. Even if I wish I was right now.

I have a nasty, snotty, gaggy head cold which seems to be trying to turn into Corey's bronchitis. I feel like someone's been beating my upper arms with cricket bats, and like my joints have all been squeezed in giant vises. There is a space between my throat and my nose that is raw. I don't even know what to CALL that spot. But it feels rough and dry and it hurts. I caught myself gasping for breath after typing the word "the," so I took a puff off of Corey's albuterol inhaler. Lo and behold, I can breathe again - through my mouth, anyway.

Anyhow, enough whining about my health.

Yesterday was weird. I had to take Alex to the doctor because he was starting to sound like Corey did when he first got sick, and I wanted to nip it in the bud. We got to see our favorite PA. I absolutely love this guy. He takes time with his patients. He discusses treatment options. And he doesn't distribute antibiotics like placebos. If you have a virus, he will explain that antibiotics won't help, and will inform you that any medicine he prescribes is to control symptoms. To be used on an as-needed basis ONLY.

When we went in the exam room, the sun was shining. When we came out, the parking lot was half-flooded from the rain. So that was weird.

We went out to lunch after we dropped off the prescription, and picked up Alex's decongestant afterwards. We got home about half an hour before school let out for Mercedes. There was a message from her on the machine saying something about she didn't know if she should take the bus or have us pick her up, so I called the school to find out what she was talking about. It turns out that they don't run the activity bus on rainy days (it was her Chess Club day), so I told them to let her know we'd pick her up after Chess Club. Well, she got confused and took the bus home anyway. In spite of our efforts to keep her out of the rain, she wound up walking home in it from the bus stop because we didn't know she was going to be there.

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Christine, I'm getting ready to say some unpleasant things about Paul - fair warning

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After she got home, she did her homework and helped me do the dishes. I decided to let her go with me to Christine's when I went to visit with her and sister James. I was returning and loaning some books, as well as returning her muffin pan.
This is where things got a little fucked up. The first thing is that I see that look in Christine's eyes that says I'm either interrupting something or Paul just doesn't want me there. Which - OMG - it's both. They were just getting ready to watch a movie. I apologized for interrupting, gave her the books and tin, and left.

I kind of lost it on the way home. I hate how Paul treats me. I can't really even remember everything was going through my mind. I know that I was furious with Christine for letting him treat me that way, I was jealous of sister James. I was pissed that Paul acted like I was the scum of the earth. He looked at me the way I look at a pile of cat shit in the closet. I told myself that I never wanted to go over there again. I cried most of the way home - once I got past feeling mad, I started feeling sorry for myself.

Mercedes even felt sorry for me. Which was just great - I was even pathetic in the eyes of an 8 year old. I told her I didn't really want Corey to know how I was feeling, and she said she wouldn't talk to him about it. To her credit, she didn't, in spite of him prying. I just already felt pretty crappy, I didn't need him feeling sorry for me, too. I certainly didn't want him looking at me and thinking how disgusting it must be to be me, putting all my chips on the only friendship that currently seems to be panning out.

I sour-grapesed it. I had to go to PT anyway. How nice. I let poor Dustin think he was really kicking my butt with the massage, since it was a good excuse to let my guard, and a couple of tears, drop.

Bah. Nobody wants to hear this drivel, not even me. Pfff.

So this morning, my darling Christine came over, and we had coffee and kind of talked about last night. And I'm at a point now where if Paul thinks I hate him, GOOD. So the fuck what? Maybe I do, but SHIT, man, how else am I supposed to feel? If that's the goal he's been working so hard towards, FINE. He fucking wins, already.

I think the thing that pisses me off the most is that I've been working so hard to NOT dislike him. Christine loves him, and in a sense, he's part and parcel of the package. It's kind of frustrating when she defends him, because it's usually right after he's been a complete dick to her. What I don't get, however, is that just the day before yesterday, we were sitting around just chatting, he and I, while she picked sister James up from the airport. We were getting along just fine, and agreed on many things. So it really just kind of feels like getting punched in the stomach when the very next day he looks at me with that dull, disgusted look on his face.

I don't want him to talk to me at all. I have nothing to say to him. I don't want to be in the same room with him, because if he doesn't see me, OR my kids, or Corey, he won't have anything to say ABOUT us except old shit. Which surely will get as dull as the expression on his face, even to him.

the last trail...the next path