Over lunch hour yesterday I took a taxi out to pick up the car from the mechanic's. I made a joke with Billy that he'd transformed my Toyota into an M3 that now crouched where I'd left the car Thursday morning, and I found my lame joke funny.

On my way back to the office I listened to John Mayer's Breakaway, and as I sung along to familiar phrases the tears starting streaming down my face along with spasms I could only imagine a heart attack to feel like, and I knew that this was just the beginning of missing Linda.



The afternoon in the office went by too slowly, and then too quickly as the work piled up and the hours raced forward to my long scheduled double date. The date was experimentally interesting at best... for awhile there, the tension in the air was as thick as peanut butter and I wanted to breathe it, choke on it and be sent to Gleneagles Hospital around the corner.

After listlessly roaming the streets all night, I drove home and promptly fell asleep in the car downstairs making a big wetspot on my t-shirt. I woke up about 6, came up to my room, and fell asleep again before figuring out how best to remove any articles of clothing from my body.

I reek now. Its making me ick as I type. Linda calls it the baobei smell - she used to like to knock herself out with it - I'd best describe it as the waft of dead skin making molecular bonds with sweat & oil.

Today I shall ride like hell down the park, read more of the Wind Up Bird Chronicle, and have lunch at yogihub, my new favourite eating house. Its dry today, but maybe the rains will come soon, and maybe I'll see a rainbow.