hungunder.
it took about an hour to pry myself out of bed, rub my eyes open, and climb in the shower. i still can't bring myself to get dressed.
this is what happens to someone who doesn't normally drink and then develops a taste for bourbon rather quickly. bad bad things.
on the other hand, we've got a plane ride today throwing me back into the cold snowy northeast where i'm concerned and tiny in the shadow of family. aunt marge is having surgery, mom's still got that pesky cancer, aunt gail can't get a diagnosis ... but none the less, my family hasn't seen me at all since boy passed. i don't want to have that talk with them ... that "don't treat me with kid gloves" talk. nothing anybody says could upset me any more right now. there's nothing more anyone can take away from me. so don't try to protect me. don't skip his name in conversations. don't look at me like you pity me.
god, i can't think. i keep getting the days of the week mixed up. all day yesterday, i thought it was friday. then i thought it was tuesday, then i got confused when someone explained that it was monday. my brain is firing bullets into the sky here, people.
i think i just need some sleep...
