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Dec. 18th, 2014 10:39 pm
Empty hours
So that cold I've been dodging for all these weeks of stress and poor sleep? Finally showed up last night. I went to bed with a bad taste in my mouth and a premonition, slept badly, and woke up sore and exhausted. But this was not a day I could take off, so I dragged myself into work, made it to my meetings, and then left as soon as I could. Not that I could go home: this evening was the wake for Lee.
Before that, I needed dinner, so I cast an eye on the environs of the funeral home and it came to rest on Johnny Casserole, which sounded tailor-made to comfort me. I was hoping for something quick so I could eat, make it to the wake, and then scoot back home, but the counterman greeted me with "Casseroles take 45 minutes. I want you to know that up front." Instead of deterring me, that intrigued me, since it could only mean that they were being made to order. And despite my zinc-fuzzed tongue, I could tell this was the best damn tuna noodle casserole I'd even put in my mouth.
Mozhu was less tired than I would've expected for someone who'd put in another long day in a long week of them. The atmosphere, in a restrained way, was actually convivial, with old friends chatting quietly in clumps. She introduced me around a bit, and I made a point of going up to both the other unengaged long-haired weirdo and to Lee's mom. "I want her to meet some people from Lee's orbit," Mozhu said to me. I told her how, even if I'd never been fortunate enough to meet Lee, I'd still have remembered him fondly on account of his writing alone. "Are you a writer?" she asked. I sighed and explained how Lee put despair in lesser talents like myself. "He could make anything interesting. I can't even consistently make interesting things interesting."
As I took my leave, Mozhu actually apologised for not chatting with me more. I told her there'd be plenty of time for that in the coming year, after this intense flurry was over, and she said she looked forward to finding a way to fill "the empty hours". Between the long hours spent in waiting and examination rooms and the recent surge in visits,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu already beginning to crave a bit of alone time. But I'll wager things will look a bit different during the coming deep freeze, when any activity outside the house becomes something of an expedition.
Before that, I needed dinner, so I cast an eye on the environs of the funeral home and it came to rest on Johnny Casserole, which sounded tailor-made to comfort me. I was hoping for something quick so I could eat, make it to the wake, and then scoot back home, but the counterman greeted me with "Casseroles take 45 minutes. I want you to know that up front." Instead of deterring me, that intrigued me, since it could only mean that they were being made to order. And despite my zinc-fuzzed tongue, I could tell this was the best damn tuna noodle casserole I'd even put in my mouth.
Mozhu was less tired than I would've expected for someone who'd put in another long day in a long week of them. The atmosphere, in a restrained way, was actually convivial, with old friends chatting quietly in clumps. She introduced me around a bit, and I made a point of going up to both the other unengaged long-haired weirdo and to Lee's mom. "I want her to meet some people from Lee's orbit," Mozhu said to me. I told her how, even if I'd never been fortunate enough to meet Lee, I'd still have remembered him fondly on account of his writing alone. "Are you a writer?" she asked. I sighed and explained how Lee put despair in lesser talents like myself. "He could make anything interesting. I can't even consistently make interesting things interesting."
As I took my leave, Mozhu actually apologised for not chatting with me more. I told her there'd be plenty of time for that in the coming year, after this intense flurry was over, and she said she looked forward to finding a way to fill "the empty hours". Between the long hours spent in waiting and examination rooms and the recent surge in visits,
monshu already beginning to crave a bit of alone time. But I'll wager things will look a bit different during the coming deep freeze, when any activity outside the house becomes something of an expedition.Tags: