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I successfully slept in the master bedroom, in what was our bed, for the first full night last night, 15 days after Jenn walked out.  Until now, I’ve been sleeping in the guest room or on the couch.

If you had asked me whether I thought this would be a big deal, sleeping in that bed, I would have told you “No”.  But it was.

I discussed Tabasco brand Smoked Chipotle Sauce previously.

Before I first tried it, reader and longtime friend Bob Mike was over for a “special” tea party and horror movie night (he’s a great friend, taking public transportation for about 100km to keep me company during the divorce).  He saw the bottle on the counter, which I had picked up out of curiosity, and exclaimed something to the effect of “Isn’t that stuff great?!”  I didn’t know, I had never had it before.

I’ve had it now.

It is amazing.  It’s not a hot sauce, really, just a flavoring sauce.  It’s no hotter than A1 Bold & Spicy.  You can pour it over anything and everything savory: rice, beans, tortillas, soup, hot dogs, hamburgers, steaks, whatever.  They hit this one out of the park.  It’s a major keeper.

The Coupon Clippers have a coupon right now for $0.75 off any flavor Tabasco, which you can probably get doubled.  Do it quickly.  I’m not posting a direct link because the current coupon expires on 2 March 2008, but there may be one coming to replace it.  The Coupon Clippers is a great site that charges a small processing fee to clip and mail you manufacturers’ coupons.  For this coupon, the fee is $0.10.  I’ve become a devotée of the site, and I think you will, too: go try it out through this affiliate link.

I really hate insomnia, but never more than when it promises to decrease the joy I can have with my son the next day.  Er, later this day.  In about two hours.

Short sleep last night, no nap, a couple glasses of wine — I thought I was sitting pretty for a long winter’s nap.  But I have barely blinked.

If anyone has been calling me, by the way, I can’t answer it.  My phone was lost, then disabled as a security precaution, a replacement was ordered, the passive voice was used, and then the missing phone was discovered — which now belongs to the insurance company.  I’m wondering exactly how many days I should wait before someone miraculously “returns my missing phone” to me, to send it to the insurance company, so I won’t look like a total wanker.

I’m not hurting too badly right now.  I can probably take some more ibuprofen for the mild discomfort.  But I really wish I could just lie down and become unconscious.  Restfully, REMmingly, unconscious.  I’m writing train-of-thought right now, and hoping it will tire me so that I can go and collapse into bed.  I’m not actually alert enough to do anything really thought-intensive, like code or write cogently, just alert enough to stay awake.

Thanks to everyone for your support of late.  It’s much needed, and much appreciated.  So much so, that you can consider this a personal letter to you.

I’ll even sign it,

- Joshua

I’ve got a car
I’ve got some gas
Let’s get out of here
Get out of here fast

You don’t have to pack your things
We’ll make it up as we go along
I want to go, but I don’t want
To go
Alone

Not poorly.  It was delicious.  But poor.

I have very little income right now, being disabled, out of work, with no disability checks coming in.  I invited my mom over for dinner tonight.  The menu: Sloppy Joes and wine. 

Not an American?  Sloppy Joes are comfort food, frequently (at least when I was growing up) served as school lunch.  Wikipedia: “There is probably no Joe after whom it is named — but … “Joe” is a name that suggests, to an American, a person of proletarian character and unassailable genuineness.”  Can’t beat that with a stick.  Er, switch.  Er, Louisville Slugger.

Ingredients sourced at the 99¢ Only store and low-cost Valu Mart grocery store.  So I worked it out: she had half a hamburger bun, lean beef, sloppy joe sauce, Tabasco Chipotle sauce (yum!), and half a glass of wine (she’s watching her diet.)  $0.72.  Very low in fat, high in protein, and not too bad in the way of sodium.

I feel like Thoreau, detailing cent-by-cent analyses of what it’s like to live simply.  I’m not about to start leaving my front door open or anything, but it’s awfully rewarding to do something like that.

When my alarm went off at 5:45 this morning, it woke both of us.

I went into Niall’s room and told him it was time to go to school.

“I don’t want to go to school!” he cried.  “I want to stay with you!  This is where I live!”

I got him dressed, fed him, and took him to school.  Upon arrival, we went and put his bags in his cubbyhole.  I asked him for a big hug to hold me over until Saturday, as I wouldn’t see him before then.  He gave me a long, strong hug, then stood straight with his hands behind his back, his eyes filled with tears.

“Do you want to go see your teacher?” I asked.

He shook a little.  “No.  I just want to stand here for a little bit.”

I’ll write more, in spurts, as I develop the will — but the worst part about this, so far, is having to pretend, for Jenn’s sake, that her leaving is a joint decision and for the best.  It is not a joint decision.  I did not want my son kidnapped away from me, and my table scraps of visitations to be at the discretion of Jennifer, as if this were her right alone to decree.

I wonder right now if I am making the biggest mistake of my life not fighting harder, and letting this happen.  I wonder what I’m supposed to do.  I don’t want to make this any uglier, but Niall is way too perceptive not to be deeply hurt by everything that’s going on, and he’s my son.  In fifteen years, will he hate me for not taking a stronger stand on this, or will he understand that I did the best I thought I could at the time, trying not to sabotage Jennifer while trying to love my son?  I don’t know.  God.  I don’t know.

I’ve had Niall since Saturday afternoon.  I drop him at school tomorrow.  As the seconds go by, I get more and more frantic about squeezing every last moment from the time with him.

We were listening to a random music mix, and G’n'R’s Yesterdays came on the rotation, which has the lyric “Yesterday’s got nothing for me.”

Niall’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he turned to me and said, “There’s nothing for me either, without you.”

However justified Jenn was in leaving to get on with her life — the appropriateness could be as high as 100% — the decision left a body count.

OK, let’s run down my week so far:

1. Wife left me and took Niall (my fault)
2. Got dropped from the interview process of the job for which I was applying (my fault, essentially)
3. Worker’s Comp claim was denied, so I will have to sue the WC insurance company (not my fault)
4. Ditzy HMO doctor whom I saw twice while out of work due to work-related injury claims I never told her I was off work, and refuses to sign my disability slip (fuckin’ not my fault)
5. Paid over $100 (that I didn’t have until friends opened their wallets) to file my taxes (my choice)
6. Ran out of meds (that said ditzy doctor forgot to refill) and for which I don’t have insurance anyway (not my fuckin’ fault)

So, today:

7. Computer crashes (shit happens)

You’d think with my whole professional and educational life spent living at the whims of computer hardware, I would have a top-of-the-line backup system in place.  You’d be wrong.

I fixed it.  The computer, and recovered the data.  It took some effort, but I did it.  I’m doing a full backup tonight.

Next step would pretty much have to be “blindness”, right?  I’d say “death”, but that’s not always seeming like such a bad alternative this week.

I don’t think it appropriate to write at length, or write details, in this public arena.  But not writing anything about this has made it impossible to write anything else on the site, so I’ll just do a fifteen-second version and leave it be.

My wife Jennifer has left me, taken our son, and asked for a divorce.  She has moved in with her parents.  She left the cat.

I am devastated, and left with no income and no disability checks yet.

Things might be slow in these parts for a while — or, I may go into fits of hypergraphia to keep my mind off things.  One or the other.

There’s a lot I want to write, and maybe I will write it and just not publish it.  As I said, this is really not the most appropriate arena to air it.

Anyone who wants to leave condolences, please do.  I might not be able or willing to give too many other details.  Anyone who wants to lend me $100, so I can pay for medication and maybe rent, I wouldn’t turn that down, either.

All hail the lucky ones!  I refer to those in love.