31 May 2000


Paraphrase:  "Was your character tested today?  Did it remain intact?"

Listening to:  "Gimme a Ride to Heaven," performed by Joe Ely


Intense Emotions


As I was leaving my apartment to go to work today and saying goodbye to Callie, I was struck be an unbelievable reluctance to leave.  Instead, I really wanted just to go back up the stairs and curl back up with her and talk.  The feeling was so intense that I stopped breathing for a second.

I like feeling that way about her.  I like having my pulse quicken a bit when she touches me, or when I see her after a long day, or when she's done something particularly thoughtful (something that happens quite often). 

This is somewhat new territory for me.  Usually I'm busy finding things that are wrong with a significant other, or becoming disappointed.  I've never quite felt this way before.  Actually, that's what I was thinking as I was driving to work after the goodbye I mentioned above.  I've never really had a goodbye move me like it did today.  I expected life to be that way when I was married, but it never quite was.   Not it is, and it's a very good thing.

* * * *

Two people were testy with me at work today.  Go figure, the first day I've actually bothered to go in to the office instead of working at home, and two self important asses decide to get snippy with me.  One of these days, I think I'll just bonk a stapler or other heavy piece of office equipment off one of their heads and see what they think about that.  I'm one of the more pleasant, entertaining, upbeat people in the office.  I don't need dour people raining on my (constant) parade.

* * * *

This will be the last journal entry for a week, as I'm heading to Calgary and limited internet access.  I will have a very old laptop up there, and shall record my observations on my very first trip to Canada.  Thus, there will be retroactive updates when I return.  I will also update the rest of the Float Trip realaudio sections when I return.  I'm just out of gas tonight.  But packed -- finally!



Copyright (c) 2000, Kevin L. Whited