It's Monday morning and I'm hunching and I am timing my blinks to the off-beats of the flashing cursor and wearing my self-flagellating earrings.
But,
that doesn't mean this last weekend was rough because it wasn't--aside from muscle aches (mine) and chemo aches (mom's) and sundry other brain and heart disconnects, I could scribble off a litany of other good things I did taste and see and feel in my bones. Like, I don't know, bacon cheeseburgers and goalies and Big Ideas and garden dirt between my toes and Mexican food and thrift store skirts and atomic kisses and draped, cuddly naps.
And then I ended the weekend alone, on the couch in my living room that still smells like a basement (the couch, not the living room), watching a few episodes from the first season of Friends and eating mini marshmallows from the bag until I fell asleep. My 'well, here you are!' gift to me.
Funny how I'm saying the same thing to myself this morning and it keeps trailing off in to ellipses.
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