it's wednesday but i keep forgetting what day it is.
i returned to sf yesterday, after a blurred whirlwind of a week, none of which i have the strength or capacity to write about yet. it was hard, and it still is, and it will be for a long time.
being home isn't great.
when you first get the news, and everyone rushes in to help, and you have to prepare for the services and make arrangements and all that, you are busy and you are kept company and you can only see as far as that. the funeral. settling things. seeing everyone.
and that was great, seeing everyone. the extended sammis "family" is a spectacular group of people. oh, we cried. but we sang! and laughed! so much music and warmth...
but now i'm back and it's only a couple days later and what? i'm just supposed to go back to work now? back to life? we're all just suppoed to suck up and deal? be around people who are alive and healthy and just living as though nothing's different? oh, hey, what are you doing this weekend? oh, me? uh, i dunno...might see friends, i guess. or catch a movie. or crawl under the blankets and curse the fucking sun for being so bright and try to think of a reason to feel like ever getting up again, ever. how 'bout you?
anyway. i wrote once about routine. i will try and listen to myself. writing is therapeutic. i think i might just go back to telling the story i was in the middle of, before death so rudely interrupted*.
stay tuned. and as always, thank you for listening.
*kindly stopped for me?