Monday, July 1, 2013


Me and "Boy"
When I was two or three, my mother used to buy me Eskimo Pies. For those of you who aren't heading into retirement, an Eskimo Pie was chocolate covered ice cream on a stick. If you saved up enough of the box tops, you could get an Eskimo Pie doll, which my grandmother bought for me. My mother had no idea how much that doll was going to mean to me or she probably wouldn't have let me have it.

Apparently, I carried the doll around in my left arm, right thumb firmly corked in my mouth. It's a wonder I didn't need braces. We went through multiple "Boy" dolls and my mother would cover the original with cloth as it wore out, hoping to extend Boy's life. When the thing was falling apart, Mom would save up more Eskimo Pie box tops and order me a new one, which I would break in.

After my dad came back from Vietnam and got a job, I would get up early with my mom while she made him breakfast (I'm informed my breakfast was Cap'n Crunch) and then she and I would crawl back into her bed, so that she could get a little more sleep. I'm sure Boy came with me, as my thumb didn't know what to do without that stuffed doll in the other hand. Although I don't remember this story, I'm sure that this was one of the times that I felt it was me and my mom against the world.

I felt safe. Loved. Protected.

I loved my dad, but I worshiped my mom.

She got me through the year he was in Vietnam. She helped me remember him because he left when I was a year old. My dad came and went during the years - working long hours and traveling - but Mom was always there.

45 years later, my mom lay in their king sized bed in South Carolina, riddled with cancer, but determined not to be an invalid or a burden on anyone. True to her personality, she would be independent as long as possible. But I know she could see that the end was coming.

"Get in," she offered.


She pulled the covers aside for me and I slid under the covers and as close to her as I dared, not wanting to hurt her. Cancer had taken so much from her and would continue to cause unimaginable pain. I didn't want to make it worse.

I was overwhelmed with joy that she wanted me to snuggle with her. To be her baby one last time.

Boy was a security blanket of the past, but the closeness of a mother and daughter at the other end of her life was the same as if I were two years old.

I was looking for as many of these moments that I could store away in my head for my "after." We were all making memories and I wanted more good memories than bad. I wanted memories of my mom as she truly was; not as she was after cancer had taken her leg and her ability to move or take care of herself.

Dad came in and said, "You're having a slumber party." We smiled.

Lying there in bed with my mom, we didn't really talk. Mostly she let me get close to her physically, which was something I needed, something that showed me how much she loved me.

At the end, like most people do, she had realized that family was the most important thing. That you can have something you love to do, but that is not the same as having a family who cares and supports you and is willing to take care of you in your last and most vulnerable days - when you are leaving this world.

"I wish it was me."

"No, honey, you have to take care of Justin and the boys."

"I don't want you to go."

"I'm not afraid of dying."

"I know, but I'm going to miss you so much. I don't know how to live without you."

And then someone rang the doorbell and came in and shattered that beautiful moment with my mom. She meant so much to others, but I was selfish and I didn't want to share her, except with my dad and my brother.

She gave so much to others.

But, In that short moment, she was focused only on me. And that bookend moment will be the one I treasure and take out to hold carefully from time to time, to remember how much she loved me and how much she meant to me.

There is no bond like that between a mother and child.

Boy had left me at some point and I learned how not to miss him. Now Mom was leaving and I was 48 years old. How many years would it take for me to learn how to live without my mother?

I will never learn how to live without my mother. I feel adrift...lost at sea. I'm told it gets better with time but you never really get over it. I know that's true. You just learn to keep breathing until it's not quite so painful.

It may get old for others to hear, but I miss my mom so much it's hard to breathe.


Friday, May 24, 2013

Grief Is Strange

There was one thing I did not expect to feel when my mom died. I figured I would be a sobbing puddle on the floor, that I wouldn't be able to stop crying, that I'd be a basket case.

Grief is so weird.

I've done a little research, as I was concerned that I seem to be blocking out all of the important grieving processes and what I found out is that one of the most common symptoms of intense grief is exhaustion.

I've never slept so much in my life. I'm getting pretty good sleep during the night, but as soon as Joey is off to school, I'm right back in bed. This morning, I couldn't get up until 11:15! I simply could not wake up. And even after all of that sleep (because I had a pretty good night last night), I needed another 5 hours.

This exhaustion thing is really eating into my days. By the time I'm up and moving around, it's already lunch time and I'm still going to bed around 10:00 every night, so that's just not much time to get a lot of things accomplished.

Which works out okay, since I don't seem to have the energy once I am up to do anything except sit in the recliner and sew. The agoraphobia is back in spades and now that Joey has an aide, I have been able to really limit the amount of time I am out of the house. I think I'm afraid that it's going to hit me while I'm out and I'm going to break down in public. The grief counselor told me that is called a "grief burst." And yeah, I've had them, usually in the car, usually triggered by a song or a stray thought. Like I need to call my mom to tell her something and then realize they don't have cell phone service in heaven.

I've been spending a lot of time wondering about the heaven thing, as I have never really been a believer. Of course, I pray in my head all the time, even though I don't know if anyone or anything is hearing my prayers. I might just be talking to myself. I also talk to my mom in my head, but that seems more normal to me.

My mom was not a religious person (hence my "meh" attitude towards it), so I wonder if she went to heaven because doesn't Christianity say if you haven't "accepted" Christ as your savior, you can't get into heaven? But there was never a more decent, loving, kind, accepting, wonderful person as my mom and if she can't get into heaven because she hadn't been "saved," then I'm going to be really mad at God when I get there. Assuming he's there.

I've gotten really interested in maybe going to a medium to see if I can connect with Mom (and maybe Malea). I know most people don't believe in that type of thing, but if I could find someone who was reputable. Any recommendations are welcome.

I've been thinking more and more about the new tattoo that I've been wanting for the last 3 years, since Juliana died. First it was just a butterfly, but now I want a butterfly with a cancer ribbon and I don't know what color to make the ribbon because there is no color for sarcoma and my mom didn't like the pink ribbon because they throw so much money at breast cancer research and so little to the rare type of cancer that she had. Only 10,000 people in the United States get myxofibrosarcoma in one year. Oncologists actually have bets as to whether or when they will get their first patient with the type of cancer that my mom had. So again, all suggestions are welcome.

If the exhaustion is a symptom and eventually goes away as the mind prepares to adjust to the loss of the person you were so close to, I'm scared about that because I don't know how to handle a pain that large. It was inconceivable to me two and a half years ago that my mother could die from cancer. It was inconceivable that Malea could die from breast cancer because of the progress that has been made in treating that disease.

I'm trying to get back into the writing/blogging thing, but there are days (lots of days) when I just can't think of anything to say. Losing my mom made me lose my words. And I suspect that if all I write about is grief, it will get pretty boring to read it.

So, I'm once again at a crossroads, wondering whether this blog should continue or if I should give it up as something I just can't handle. Still not sure on the answer to that.

I think it's time for a nap...


Thursday, May 23, 2013

It's 3:00 a.m., I Must Be Lonely...

She says baby
It's 3 am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it

Matchbox 20 - 3AM

Wow, it's been awhile since I did a middle of the night post. The lyrics to this song just popped into my head (and if I haven't written another post with these lyrics, I might be very surprised with my history of insomnia.
Everyone's asleep. Even the animals are all asleep. I can't even hear noise from Ben's room, although that might be because I threatened him when he woke me up the other morning at 4:30 laughing and shouting at someone on his interactive computer game. Are they still playing World of Warcraft, or is there a new and better game to be addicted to?

This is my new normal. I am so sleepy during the day that I do nothing but sleep. I sleep 7-8 hours until I have to get up to feed the cats and get Joey off to school. Then I go back to bed for 2-3 hours. I'm up just enough for lunch and then it's another nap. If I'm having a particularly bad day, I also fall asleep while Justin is making dinner. I mean literally sitting in my recliner, sewing in hand, television on, and the next thing I know, Justin is asking me if I'm ready to eat.

Then bedtime comes and it starts all over again. And it doesn't seem to matter whether or not I slept a lot or a little the day before. I'm going to be sleepy again all day, even though I will sleep (mostly) at night.

I think all of this loss is becoming more real. Because my mom lived in South Carolina, I've been somehow trying to convince myself that I could really just go visit anytime. And yet, in the back of my mind, I'm all Dude! You can go visit Dad, but Mom won't be there. And then it hits me in the back of the skull like a rock that Mom's gone somewhere that gets no cell phone service.

God, I miss her so much.

After she died, I took every VHS tape I had over to Costco and had them converted to three DVDs. They gave me an extra copy, which I sent to my brother. They were all videos of my kids as they were growing up and my parents took most of them. Actually, I think my dad took most of them while Justin and I were away on the weekends, meaning they were babysitting my kids. Meaning Mom was going to be on a lot of them? I don't know, because I watched only part of the first one and had to turn it off. Ben was about 7-8 months old and there was my mom with him on her lap playing patty cake. He used to beg for that game.

Costco, being really cool, had given me an extra set and I sent the other 3 to my brother out in California. I'm hoping he can watch them for me and tell me how much I need to prepare myself before I try again. There are little pictures on the front, where each new section begins, and I see Mom in a lot of the first video, but not so much in the other two. Meaning nothing, because it's only a slice of one spot on the video.

There have been a lot of days that I've reached for my phone to either text or call her and then had to either set it down or text or call someone else. Usually I call my dad, sometimes my brother. The only other people besides Justin who kind of understand what this is doing to me, although sometimes I think women grieve differently than men do. They seem to get back to their lives fairly quickly, even with a large loss, and the grief will hit them from time to time. Women (it seems to me) tend to think about it constantly, cry considerably, and try to find ways not to forget.

When Sprint lost the only voice mail message I had saved from my mom, I thought I was going to lose it on the customer service representative. Apparently, you can back up emails and texts, but you can't back up voice mails. Why not? Why? Why? Why? That was the last message I had from my mother, who I will never talk to on this earth again and you lost it??? And it was their fault - something in the network Justin says. I will so be getting another provider when my contract is up. Which won't give me back my voice mail, but will give me some satisfaction that they aren't getting my money anymore after they lost the most important message I could have had in the last year.

Mother's Day was the first holiday without her and it was agony. I had no one to send flowers to. I picked out a card, wrote a poem, and sent it down to Dad to tape up on Mom's columbarium crypt (where her ashes are kept at the cemetery).

Sometimes, I hear the voice of that teacher guy from South Park who keeps saying, "Drugs are bad" in that weird voice of his. Except mine says, "Cancer is bad."

Dude, you have no idea.

Miss you, Mom


Tuesday, May 21, 2013

I'm Writing a Post About....Oh Look! A Chicken!

Hey blog readers. Long time no contact. As you all know, my life has been in upheaval for the last year. First my best friend died and then my mom passed away.

Of course, I'm still grieving a lot, but I wanted to dip my toes back into the blogging waters. So, without further ado, I give you this:

Growing up, it was kind of a family joke that my dad was forgetful. (Sorry, Dad!) He would walk out without things like his bank deposit, the list of items he was supposed to get at the store, his wallet. He found his lack of memory to be frustrating to say the least. My mom, ever the peacekeeper, would usually have whatever it was he forgot waiting for him if she found it before he came home. Remember, this was before cell phones, so it wasn't quite so easy to work around these little memory slippages.

As Dad has gotten older and my mom got sick, we became a little more concerned that it was possible that he might have symptoms of early Alzheimer's Disease. But, much to my surprise, when I talked to my mom about my concerns last year, she said they had been to the doctor and Dad actually has ADD, also known as Attention Deficit Disorder. Whew, not Alzheimer's Disease. Very relieved, to say the least.

When I found out about my dad's diagnosis, I realized that I have a lot of the same symptoms as he does. I go into a room for something and forget what I was looking for. I leave and realize I've left my phone at home. I have a grocery list, but come home without half the things on it.

One time, I left my car running in a parking lot for an hour while I was at the therapist's office. I didn't turn the car off! I just got out and went into the building. I only began to worry when I realized I couldn't find my keys. When I got out to the parking lot, there my car was, still running! Amazing that no one jumped in and took it.

It's kind of hard to tease out my ADD symptoms from my bipolar impulsivity, but safe to say, I will agree that I have it in spades. I will have a sudden thought and immediately drop whatever I am doing to go do whatever the other thought prompted. I will empty the clean clothes into the basket and then leave it in the middle of the floor because when I walked through the kitchen, I remember I was supposed to be unloading the dishwasher or there was something on the stove that needed attention. I drive Justin crazy when we go somewhere, because my attention is always on something that is not directly in front of me, causing me to either block his path or bump into other people or trip and injure myself.

Some of the symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder (or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), as listed on are

Distractibility; Disorganization; Forgetfulness; Procrastination; Chronic lateness; Chronic boredom; Anxiety; Depression; Low self-esteem; Mood swing; Employment problems; Restlessness; Substance abuse or addictions; Relationship problems.

Of course, a lot of those are also symptoms of bipolar disorder, but it is very possible to have comorbid mental disorders.

The best thing to do if you think you might have ADD or ADHD is to get a workup by a professional in your area. If you do have it, it can be managed with medication and/or therapy. Even adults can benefit from the combination of medication and therapy, both to get your brain slowed down enough to focus and to learn ways to cope with the disorder.

The website,, is a good place to start if you think you want to investigate further. I went onto the site and put in my city and state and found five providers in my city. Having worked in the psychology field in this area, I recognized all five names as being respected providers.

For myself, I basically deal with my ADD by trying to focus and be more aware of doing one this at a time and being present in the moment. And slowing down as much as I can. And years and years of therapy.

Now where did I put my car keys?

(This post sponsored by However, all opinions expressed are my own.)


Monday, March 25, 2013

It Was a Lovely Service; Now I'm Going to Sleep for Six Months

My writing has absolutely suffered since my Mom got sick and I don't know if it will come back, but I wanted to give an update while I happened to be sitting in front of the computer.

The funeral was amazing. So many people brought quilts that my mother had finished and the entire church was covered in her artistry.

Just a few of the many quilts that were draped over every available service at the church.

Something very strange that has happened after Mom's passing. I have never been able to wear earrings. My ears always got infected every time I tried. In fact, I had two pairs of earrings that Justin had bought me - one was a beautiful pair of estate sale earrings in opal and the other a pair of diamond studs that I finally gave to my nieces since they were their birthstones - since I had no use for them. I hope my nieces are enjoying them, although I haven't heard back from them so I really just hope they got them.

My mom left me a ton of jewelry. Being the only girl and my brother not being married or having any children, almost all of her jewelry came to me. My mom loved wearing earrings and a good part of what I received were earrings. I was upset that I was unable to wear them, but I took them thinking that maybe I might have a daughter in law or granddaughter someday.

One day recently, I got frustrated at the fact that I couldn't wear my mother's earrings, as wearing her jewelry brings her closer to me. Even though my left hole had closed up in the back, I decided to give it one more try. I chose a beautiful pair of onyx hearts and set to work. The right earring went in no problem. After poking around a bit, the left one actually went through and I fastened both on, thinking, "I'll have to take these out in an hour because they'll start to hurt and itch." Then I forgot about them. By the end of the day, I had worn those earrings all day long, just like a normal person!

Yesterday, I went to put a pair in and wasn't doing it in front of the mirror. The left one felt kind of difficult to get in, but it went through. Later, I discovered that I had actually put the left earring into the second hole, which had been closed over for years. I don't know how I got it in there. I don't think I will be able to wear an earring in that hole, but I am so grateful to my mom for giving me back the ability to wear earrings in my two regular ear holes. Where else would that have come from? I've been allergic to every kind of metal I ever tried. So, thanks, Mom. These are the things that make me know you are still here watching over me.

I've been sleeping a LOT since Mom's passing and I don't know if that's normal or not, but sleeping your way through grief seems kind of like a short cut. I know I need to do the work, but maybe this is my body's way of getting through the initial stages. I haven't paid bills or balanced the checkbook since I got home. I'm sort of on auto pilot right now with a few sobbing sessions thrown in for good measure.

Justin had suggested that we get away for our 25th anniversary, which is next month, saying that after losing both my best friend and my mother within five months of one another, he felt I needed to get away. The only problem was what to do with the family - furry and otherwise. I finally said to him last night, "Let's board the dogs and let my dad take care of the younger boys. I'm sure he'd love to do it." I emailed my dad and he was all on board, so it looks like we will be going to somewhere down near Hilton Head Island probably in June after the kids get out of school. If Ben wants to go, I may buy him a round trip ticket, since I know he will have work and may not be able to stay as long as the other ones. My dad has talked about chartering a boat for deep sea fishing and I know all of the guys want to do that, so I figure Justin and I can have our romantic 25th anniversary and then we'll go back to my Dad's and they can go fishing before we go home. I don't really want to go anywhere right now, but I'm sure by June I will be ready for a tropical beach vacation for a few days.

We've got inches of snow and another snow day today. I sure wish spring would come so that we could get on with planting our memorial garden. I just wish there weren't so many people to memorialize. I hope my mom's passing will be the last terrible thing my children have to go through for a long, long time.

Hope you are having a better beginning to your 2013 than we are. Things can only look up from here. Or so I hope.

Christmas 2012 - so glad we were all together


Thursday, March 14, 2013

Goodbye Mom

No matter how much you know it's coming, you're never quite prepared.

Mom had a rare form of sarcoma known as myxofibrosarcoma. It is diagnosed in only 10,000 people a year. It can be beaten, but it's not easy, as it is an aggressive cancer.

My mom fought harder than I could ever imagine and in her last month, the pain she endured was something I would not wish on my worst enemy. It's so hard to sit helplessly by and watch someone you love die. When it's your mother, I have to think that the only thing harder would be your child or your spouse. Or maybe they are all equally awful.

Mom passed away early Tuesday morning. She passed peacefully in her sleep and was in no pain. That is the only comfort I can find in this horrific experience. She endured so much pain, but she never thought of herself first.

We had the visitation down in South Carolina last night and I flew home this morning. My father, brother, and aunt will be driving up on Friday and we will hold a memorial service and celebration of her life on Saturday. We will display quilts that she made all over the church. It has a balcony that runs around the entire inside of the room where the service will be held that we can drape them over. After that, we have hired a caterer to take care of  the reception.

Then everyone will go home and it will be time to get back to my "normal" life. Except I'm not exactly sure how to do that.

I put together a slide show and wanted to upload it, but I'm just not tehnological enough to do it and I feel like I do nothing but ask Justin to help me with computer things. But here is the title page. I think it's so appropriate, because she loved nothing better than to be working on a quilt. It became her whole purpose in life after she retired. I knew that when the ability to quilt was no longer possible, Mom's illness would be a rapid decline.

Rest in peace, Mom. I love you.

And don't forget you promised to send me pennies.

Monday, January 28, 2013

I'm So Mad When I'm Not Weeping Uncontrollably

I know I haven't been the best of bloggers lately, but that is mostly because I have not had anything good to say and, since I hate reading negative posts myself, I figured I would just leave well enough alone and stick to stitching.

But after thinking it over, I realized that until I actually sat down and wrote out the fact that I am pissed off and depressed and why, I might not be able to get to a better place. So, for those of you who want unicorns and rainbows and glitter up your butt, you probably should stop reading now.

Here's your chance to move on....

Still with me? Okay, here's the scoop.

My best friend died in October and I'm absolutely still sick about it. But the world moves on and you are expected to also. Her husband wants me to work on her website for her foundation and I really want to do that, but now I am in the midst of my mother being very sick again and I find that I just don't have the emotional energy to put into fundraising for under 40 breast cancer patients while my mom is entering hospice care and having trouble walking. And also the fact that she is 600 miles away and the flights are out of this world expensive (which I didn't realize until after I had bought some new furniture and took a three day retreat to Ocean City for a stitching group) is really making me mad on top of my depression and recurrent bouts of sobbing.

I am going to slip in here something that I am very ashamed of. I am really angry at Malea for dying on me. She promised to be here for me while my mom is going through this cancer shit and she went and died first, so now I am dealing with it on my own. Well, not exactly on my own - I have Justin, who is awesome, and I have my therapist, who saves my life every week, and I have a lot of friends I have made in the sewing guild and also online friends. But it's simply not the same as it would be if Malea was alive for me to call every day and cry on her shoulders about how unfair cancer is. Like she wouldn't be the first one to agree with that statement, right? I know it wasn't her plan to die, but dammit, I need her and and I'm so mad at her for her cancer which is so unfair to her. She didn't ask for breast cancer, she fought harder than anyone I've ever known except my mom, and she lost her fight. Not. Her. Fault. But I keep fighting these angry feelings of "You promised you would be here and now you're not and it's not fair! You're supposed to be here!"

I keep having these weird dreams about some building that is somehow both a mall and a college dorm and I have to get on the elevator to get to either the dorm room or to class. This morning's dream was I was in an art class (something I am putting off, but plan to do) and I was late for a physics class. So I went to get on the elevator, but couldn't find the one that would take me to my dorm room to get my science book and then I decided screw it. I was failing math and science in this dream and I wasn't going to class because what was the point? And I didn't have the money for the tuition for the next semester, so I had taken someone's jewelry to sell and was trying to sell it and not get caught so I could pay my tuition.

I know. Weird, right? Analyze that, Freud.

I'm just mad all the time. Well, when I'm not crying hysterically because my life basically sucks. Justin is working about 20 hours of overtime a week and I am being as understanding as I can because his working pays for so much of the stuff I want to do and you know, keeps food on the table and the lights on, but I find that my husband is either always working and unavailable or too tired to have a conversation and to be honest, I miss him. But I can't say that because it puts pressure on him to spend more time with me and he doesn't have more time. So, both mad and depressed about that.

And, to make life even more fun, because Virginia has had a couple of inches of snow and a little bit of icy rain, school has been closed for about 10 days. Except for the one day they went last week. I expect to rearrange things in the summer to accommodate for this, but when it happens in the winter, it just throws me off kilter and makes me irritable, so I snap at Jamie for wanting to online shop and at Joey for making so much dirty laundry and then I feel even worse about myself.

I'm sure you know from my last post that we adopted a new puppy and she is an absolute sweetheart, but in the last week, she got a urinary tract infection and lost all of her training because she physically couldn't wait to go outside. So I was running around after her for three days cleaning up little puddles until our vet could get here. And with three dogs and no doggy door, Justin and I spend our days getting up to let the dogs in and out, which frankly is making me crazy. It's like herding two year olds, but I'm not quite sure what to do about it. We can't exactly tell them no, you just came in and I'm not letting you out again because you never know if they have to do their business and trust me, you do not want that in your house and then you can't exactly leave them outside because it's -10 degrees and you will have a dogsicle if you don't let them in. But in a few words, they are driving both of us nuts. That third dog tipped the scales just like having the third kid did.

I'd say I am having a bad bout of seasonal affective disorder, but situational depression seems way more likely. I'm walking around either totally pissed off and cussing or crying hysterically and no one knows what to do with me. I told Justin I feel like I have a bad case of PMS that just won't go away and he said he would be moving out now...not really, but he probably would like to run for it.

(Since I started writing this post, I have gotten up to clean up dog puke, give Sophie her UTI medicine, give Sophie her breakfast, and let each of them out several times. Do you see why I'm exasperated?)

All I want to do is sleep (which I'm doing a lot of, probably too much) and stitch and be left alone. But it's like I've traded one family of kids for another by having all these dogs and I seriously did not think it through because the little one is so damned cute. We talked about three being too many dogs, but Justin and I both agree that giving any of them up would be like Sophie's (pardon the pun) Choice. We're just too attached to them all, so if anyone has any answers that don't involve crating or a doggy door (because the cats would get out and I'm attached to them), I would love to hear them. Of course, I probably won't follow through with any suggestions if they involve any work, so I think I am stuck getting up from whatever episode of Parenthood that I am streaming 15 times to let them in and out and cursing so much that Joey will be kicked out of school at some point in the near future for repeating everything I've had to say lately, which is nothing but four letter words and incomprehensible mumbling through the tears.

In a word, I'm an emotional wreck that doesn't want to leave the house and wants to sleep all the time. And I would really like it if Frederick County would realize that a little bit of winter weather is not a good reason to cancel school for 19 days in a row. My routine is thrown off (and yes, I really do have a routine - it's just that no one knows what it is) and the kids are bored. Joey has done nothing but play video games and Jamie has done almost nothing but skype with his online girlfriend and I think they need to go learn something.

So, to sum up, I'm pretty much furious with cancer, mad at the world, crying uncontrollably at least once or twice a day, and taking it one breath at a time. I feel like I need a vacation from everything, but I just had a weekend away to stitch, so I don't think it's fair to say I need a vacation.

Oh. And to top off everything, the woman who I went to the retreat with had a massive heart attack the day after we got back. She's home now and doing okay, but I can't imagine what I would have done if it had happened while we were in Ocean City or while I was driving. I don't know CPR, so the best I could have done for her would have been to call 911 and I think I should take a CPR class, but I don't have the energy and I know I would skip class (see above dream) because I just wouldn't feel like going.

So, I'd like to apologize to everyone for how mad I am right now, although I can't say it's going to change anytime soon. And if I burst into tears on you, don't worry. It will pass in about an hour.

I have to go let the dog in. Or out. I'm not sure.