I picked up my new television on the way home from work today, and I’m waiting for the kids to come home to help me drag it into the house. I don’t want to ask a neighbor in the apartment house behind me to help; it’s a modest-income area, and I’m too embarrassed to let him see the 46″ TV. While I wait, I’m stuffing my face with all kinds of shit – just because.

I have a stomach ache.

I’m terrified of the walk-through tomorrow. It sounds so stupid. Makes no sense at all. I don’t know what I’m afraid of, exactly… my feelings, maybe? They’re too big to handle. Sort of like the TV.

I am comfortable with the adrenalin that comes from the shit. I don’t like it anymore, but at least I know what I’m dealing with, and I’ve been down that road before. But the adrenalin that comes from the good stuff… well, that is unfamiliar territory for me. I’m scared that if I really let go and feel all the feelings inside of me right now, I just might fall apart, and I don’t have time for that.

So, down goes the food… stuff it all down there… pack it in so nothing gets out… I wish I had a button to press for an internal garbage disposal.

I can’t let my mind wander completely into tomorrow. Right now, I can only focus on what is immediately at hand – this post and the television. When I start to think about getting up for my morning appointment, the furthest I get is into the shower and then the vision ends.

I can’t yet imagine the drive down. I can’t yet imagine pulling into the driveway. What will the house look like with a yard and some plants? How will my red door be after it’s final coat of paint? How will I feel and what will I see when I walk through that front door for the first time? My mind gets this far and the dream ends with my legs giving out from underneath me.

I hope I’ll be able to see the things that need to be fixed.

And I hope I can get this damn television inside the house.

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