Yeah, I'm still on it. I think I'll be here for a while. Good thing Colleen is coming to town. At least I know I'll be drunk.
At least for a minute.
Not while we're out shooting, though. That would be bad.
Shooting. I took my gun safety course last Saturday and got issued my certificate for my concealed weapons permit. Got to handle quite a few guns and got somewhat of a feel of what I'd like to get. I'm looking at getting a Ruger GP100. We'll see. I still want to go down to Impact Guns and shoot at a bunch of stuff and see if I like it. I'll go tomorrow morning and apply with ... whoever I need to apply with ... to start the concealed weapons permit process.
I miss Jag to no end. Was on my way to work yesterday morning, and had a complete and utter breakdown. Had to pull over until it passed so I could see where I was going. I knew his passing would hit me, but man ... this is getting ridiculous. I remember the last week of his life like it was yesterday, and it breaks my heart every time I think about it. How could a big healthy majestic dog just ... go down ... so quickly? There will never be another like him, and I can't even think about bringing in another big white dog -- i.e. every breed of guardian dog available. If I do, I know that pup will end up on my bed, at my side, going with me everywhere I go, eating whatever it wants, doing no wrong ... and basically attempting to fill really big paws. Which would then render this livestock guardian dog ... no longer a guardian, and by definition, basically ... useless. Except to me, I guess. I can't do it. I'm not ready. I don't know if I ever will be. I was looking at Maremma pups last week ... and oh boy are they the cutest things ever. But I know what will happen. And it's not a good mindset to start out with.
I miss my mother. That's just raw. And I'm sure people find that old. I don't care. If I believed ... honestly believed ... for one second that I'd see her once I was dead ... I'd be finding a cliff to jump off. What I wouldn't do to hug her again ... to smell her ... to talk to her ... to hear her laugh ... to watch her expertly rip someone a new asshole ... to have her ask me a bazillion questions ... the same questions that used to bug the crap out of me. I can't believe we're coming up on five years. It is a gaping bottomless pit of a hole in my life. Every day. I still can't hang photos of her in my house. I think about it ... and I tell myself that it would probably do me some good ... and I glance up at the boxes that hold the photos ... and the thought of going through the contents of the boxes make me nauseous. I wonder if that will ever go away.
It's pretty early for this crap to be setting in. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest and I am having a hard time breathing. There's still about a month and a half of this to go. Oh joy.