So yes I guess I'm asking you to back a horse that's good for glue, and nothing else

I pulled the thing from my windshield wiper and it was a note from the RCMP advising me that I was using an anti-theft device, and that there wasn't anything worth stealing in plain view, but that I had failed to lock my car.
That's nice.
Now maybe stop strolling through London Drugs' parking lots and start busting the one person in every four fucking cars that is bombing along in the HOV lane with only one sole fucking occupant.  Sometimes?  Sometimes?  When I haven't been sleeping well and I have PMS like what I have now?  I think about pulling my car out into the HOV lane and just stopping the next numb nuts that somehow thinks his time is more valuable than mine. 
Yeah, no: it's not.  I'm pretty sure I'm the shit.  I'm pretty sure I am the most goddamn important thing in the world so you just slow that SUV with the tinted windows down and take a nice long gander at my hastily applied bumper sticker with the bubble in it that I haven't been able to smooth out and you just watch me blow you kisses in my rear view mirror.
Okay.
In things that actually did happen today...
I ate the lunch that Michael made me today.  Yeah.  Just over a week ago I'm contemplating moving in with my mother because the thought of ever returning to North Vancouver and possibly accidentally bumping into Michael anywhere is just too painful.
Now I'm happily eating a tuna salad and wondering why I don't do such a good job chopping up vegetables into nice, bite sized pieces.  The food I make is a choking hazard.  On more than one level.
Michael came over tonight to continue our nine day discussion.  He brought me Clif bars because he knows I am going to do a relay race in Whistler this weekend, and he brought me a Kinder surprise.  Guess what the surprise was?  It took me three hours to cobble that thing together, I tell ya.
So yes.  We love each other and we're trying and we're going to try.  We are going to give it a fair shake and keep the lines of communication open. 
We're both trying not to get ahead of ourselves.  A week and a half ago I thought I was in the middle of a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.  And now I think that he's in some fugue state and he is going to wake up from it momentarily and declare that he is quite sure he hates  me.
I hope not, because he smells quite nice.
I think Sarah Harmer put it nicely when she said:

In the clatter of the afternoon
In the sunlight that is left
We can make a list of things
To forget the false starts
And the loose strings
The feelings of regret that ring
On a day when you haven't done much of anything