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        My mood is improving, despite myself.  Although a nice romp in a carton of ice cream followed by a river of vodka still don't sound half bad, there is a chipperness settling on me.  Part of me does not like this.
        My children are gone.  They are safely away in Colorado with their father and his girlfriend and her son.  I know they are happy to see him; they really missed him terribly, but now I miss them terribly.  It's the same old non custodial parent song I have sung before.  He is the better homemaker, after all.
        I am still not balanced following the loss of mid February.  The cold and practical part of me wants me to just shut down the flabby, unstable emotional lobe and just be an android, a nice cheerful automaton who actually feels nothing.  The baby in me wants to be held and rocked and soothed.  The sexual being still needs to meet with a mate on equal and respectful footing.  Up front remains surprise.  Shock.
        Why shock?  I just don't get it.  I've had time to get used to it.  Sometimes I am going about my business and then suddenly the words are there again, the painful look on his face.  "We can't be lovers anymore."  That was probably the least likely thing I ever thought he'd say to me.  Of all the things, fell and fair, that could have fallen from his lips, I was not prepared for that one.
        Well, I'm not in a state of ongoing misery.  Just briefly recurring misery, but the aftershocks echoing along are not so severe.  I'll get by.
        He makes a wonderful friend.  He talks to me rather than at me, and listens for more than just springboards for his next conversational maneuvers.  He looks out for me, and helps me when he can.  I wish I could be of more help to him.
    
        The more I look at this design, the less I like it.  This is frustrating.  I don't feel comfortable in here.  If this keeps up, I will soon outnumber Cory Glen in redesigns.