So....
I'm bringing back Emily online and puttin some STANK on it! Well, maybe not too much stank. Wouldn't want to stank up the place. All the same.
My dad died. It's knocked me off my feet a little, but I suppose that's to be expected. My days are a whirlwind of taking care of my mom, taking care of everything there is to be taken care of, trying to get through a work day without crying, and somewhere in there, trying to shut my brain off via knitting, World of Warcraft, or booze. I have to creep up on my grief and visit it a little at a time, because I have so much else to do. I don't have the luxury of breaking down, even though everything in me wants to. Sleep seems non-existent, except when it does come, I'm out cold for 15+ hours. I know all the bullshit, 'Time heals all wounds....time is your best friend right now.....it's gonna take time,' and I've decided that time fucking blows. I want to call time up on the phone and tell it it can shove its patience up it's ass, then lend it fifty cents so it can call someone who gives a shit. Then I'm going to write time a strongly opinionated letter, pointing out time fell out of the noob tree and hit every branch on the way down.
I want to skip this part, the part where I feel the constant presence of a void that can't be filled.
But in the meantime, there are some wise words that bring me a little comfort:
"Live every day like it's shark week, and remember: nothing is impossible except dinosaurs."