It’s been a tough month. Tough. Rachel tells me I should be sitting Shiva. It’s a nice idea. Twenty years is a long time to spend with another living being.
To allow myself to grieve.
But for me, like everyone else, the world pushes.
Work. 40-hour—60, even 70, hour week.
Debt crisis. Bullshit.
The house of Representatives made the mess—I hope unemployment strikes them next.
Heat—unbelievable heat. Where are all those anti-climate change people now?
115 degrees. Two new tires. Watch the heat! New tires. Heat and rubber–do the math.
Soldiers dying—for what?
Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Linkedin. CNN, NPR, BBC.
Home email, work email, third email, fourth…
Check submissions. Think about writing.
Post on Facebook.
Writing want ads—reading want ads.
Farmer’s Market, Berry Farm, groceries.
Clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom. Too hot to clean the car.
Telemarketing survey—parrot screaming—battery dying—people talking…
Can I call you again in three months?
No I don’t think so. Can he not hear my life in the background?
I need a manicure, a pedicure, an oil change—to sit Shiva.
Monday morning. Coffee. Check schedule, email, social media.
Think about rewrites. Saiga. Shiva.