You know, you'd think I'd remember that part. It was the last part that went screamy on me.

Except that where you were before isn't anywhere to be gone to anymore, there is just this weird new Here that doesn't have the person you lost anymore. And you have to realize that again and again and again, countless times. It's part and parcel of the surreality, that feeling that you will wake up and it won't really have happened and you can go back.

My pet theory is that you're re-learning how the world works. And the world is too -- for the first time in 60 or so years the sun rose this morning without Tim's Mom in it and everything has to be reconfigured now that this vital piece is missing.

Teppy, much ~ma to you, Tim, and Tim's family.

I love those cards. Most of them have been damaged or lost in the years. I wonder who has the templates?

I think I checked once with the Buffista who was responsible and the files were lost on an old computer.

Continuing ~ma to you, Teppy, and Tim's family.

It won't help at all, if I comment in Facebook, "Yeah, you are right, religious freedom is only for people you agree with," to a link to a petition to prevent building a mosque near the WTC, will it?

You know what's awesome? Going in to wake up your little boy, and him being so glad to get cuddles from his daddy that he's giggling, bouncing up and down in my arms and patting me on the back with both hands. That right there is my favourite way to start the day.

Less awesome is when I have to leave for work, and he starts crying and wailing when I hand him over to his Mummy. Nonetheless, Wallybee tells me he had a wonderful day today. Full of happiness and exploring and new experiences (like sitting up in the shopping trolley). Lucky little man.

People are so damn weird -- when I came in to work today, not a single person has offered condolences, or asked how Tim is doing. I don't expect the whole office to traipse in here, but I expected the 3 people in my immediate area (we sit in the same room, no cubicles or anything) to say something. And I know that they know, because when I called in yesterday, incompetent!boss sent around an e-mail saying that I was out of the office because Tim's mother passed away and I was helping the family. So they know.

I swear to god, I'm so tired of people being dicks.

(No job listings, please.)

Damn. People are just bizarre.

Even if they think I'm a pain in the ass (which I am; I would NOT want to work with me), they've met Tim on several occasions, and because he's the nicest guy in the world, they have no beef with him.

God damn. You really meet the most appalling people. t /Giles

Seriously, if nothing else, it's just common courtesy.