Apartment Above Luke's, Tuesday
It was Tuesday. Kathy knew she was supposed to be getting to work sometime this afternoon, doing stock or cleaning or trying to find people to come work for her or any number of countless, pointless projects. She had a routine and routines were important, at least according to what little poking around she'd done on the computer for Helpful tips when you're a basket case. But she couldn't summon the energy to get up off the couch today. Hell, getting out of bed had been a titanic struggle and the only reason she'd managed a shower at all was because she'd sat on the floor of the tub and just let the water run over her for most of it.
It sucked. She'd really thought she was doing better. She'd been okay for a few days there, genuinely happy and smiling and laughing. The kids had been great distractions while they'd been there, but they were gone now, leaving a hole in Kathy's heart and the promise of a future that seemed further away than ever, today. From 'okay' to 'utter distaster' in just twelve hours, only this time she didn't even have the outlet of fighting in Baltimore to try to channel some of this bullshit into. All she had was Hulu and about a million seasons of Hades' Kitchen to get through while she tried very hard not to think about what Saturday had been or her alternate reality daughter with her dead sister's name.
"You're never going to impress him with that mess," she informed the TV from inside her comfy cocoon of blanket. "It looks like you threw up on a plate. Way to just hand the victory to the blue team, ladies, jeez."
[Open, though I'll be off to bed soon.]
It sucked. She'd really thought she was doing better. She'd been okay for a few days there, genuinely happy and smiling and laughing. The kids had been great distractions while they'd been there, but they were gone now, leaving a hole in Kathy's heart and the promise of a future that seemed further away than ever, today. From 'okay' to 'utter distaster' in just twelve hours, only this time she didn't even have the outlet of fighting in Baltimore to try to channel some of this bullshit into. All she had was Hulu and about a million seasons of Hades' Kitchen to get through while she tried very hard not to think about what Saturday had been or her alternate reality daughter with her dead sister's name.
"You're never going to impress him with that mess," she informed the TV from inside her comfy cocoon of blanket. "It looks like you threw up on a plate. Way to just hand the victory to the blue team, ladies, jeez."
[Open, though I'll be off to bed soon.]