This one comes home tomorrow.
Mom texted me, “call me as soon as you can.” I ran upstairs; she would never text me something like that unless it was an emergency. I immediately thought of my dog, Sandy, and also my grandparents. It was my dog. Sandy has cancer. She’s not in pain. My mom cried and cried on the phone. I’m crying as I write this. Her lab results come back tomorrow. I told my mom to leave work and go home. Sand dune. Sandy. Sando. My sister doesn’t know yet. I kept saying, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “I just thought we’d get a year with her,” my mom sobbed. Sandy is old but she is our favorite. She is sweet and calm, so small with the bark of a Great Dane. And now, sick. And dying. “I just don’t know what to do.” Sanderella. I never held you enough. I was always on my way out the door, or Tucker got in the way. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. This hurts so much.
Sometimes you need to take a break from the book you’re reading and want to like but only kind of like to read a book that grips your heart and makes you excited to read and write again.
I went from zero to rage in 3.5 and now my body physically hurts from coming down from my anger.
Anna ( decisionsandrevisionsreversed ) journeyed all the way from Virginia to Frederick to come see The Vibrator Play! I have amazing friends. Anna is the best.
I keep forgetting it’s Friday the 13th, but then I remember, because Kevin’s gone for a week and nothing could be unluckier. I’ll have a lot of fun this week, I’ll catch up on sleep and be productive, but I miss him already. I don’t do this as much anymore, because the present is pretty full, but I catch myself daydreaming about an apartment full of light and plants and a hypoallergenic cat. Sometimes that feels painfully unattainable, because we’re poor and I can’t drive and the timeline is never perfect. But I want to believe that life exists for us, somewhere.
I feel gross but I am alive.
Today calls for disgusting amounts of caffeine and sugar. And stripes, but stripes are not disgusting. Stripes are perfect.