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If Monshu had lived, he'd be 73 today.
At some point, I know I'll cease to think about this. Or rather, it will be a thought that just pops into my head at some point during the day and then drifts back out after a moment's contemplation instead of lingering like a bruise I've watched take shape for days beforehand.
I haven't slept well all week. Today I even gave myself an extra hour in bed and it did no good whatsoever. (But then I never sleep well when thunderstorms move in overnight.) I can't hardly keep my eyes open and my motivation is nonexistent.
I did make plans for tonight. My ever-reliable friend Gusty will be joining me at Oda, the reincarnation of Turkish Cuisine and Bakery in northern Andersonville. The old place was a favourite of mine, but not of Monshu's, so the associations shouldn't be that strong. If I feel up to it, I might even invite him to SoFo later. But I told myself I'd at least peak into the welcome party at Touché last night but in the end I never even left the house to buy catfood.
That's kind of an indication where I'm at lately. No matter how sluggish I feel, I always take care of the Beast. Worst case, I told myself yesterday, I have tuna on hand, so he may reap the rewards of my indolence if I can't get myself to the store before dinnertime.
The one concrete achievement I have from yesterday is that I helped the neighbours plant bulbs. The one works for a park district and schnagged them from work. I remember when I was finished, I asked myself if I'd be around long enough to see the fruits of my labour. Of course I will, I thought, I'm not moving out of this place until I meet someone new. At least I didn't have a moment of melancholy lamenting that Monshu wouldn't be around to see the tulips bloom and that feels like progress.
At some point, I know I'll cease to think about this. Or rather, it will be a thought that just pops into my head at some point during the day and then drifts back out after a moment's contemplation instead of lingering like a bruise I've watched take shape for days beforehand.
I haven't slept well all week. Today I even gave myself an extra hour in bed and it did no good whatsoever. (But then I never sleep well when thunderstorms move in overnight.) I can't hardly keep my eyes open and my motivation is nonexistent.
I did make plans for tonight. My ever-reliable friend Gusty will be joining me at Oda, the reincarnation of Turkish Cuisine and Bakery in northern Andersonville. The old place was a favourite of mine, but not of Monshu's, so the associations shouldn't be that strong. If I feel up to it, I might even invite him to SoFo later. But I told myself I'd at least peak into the welcome party at Touché last night but in the end I never even left the house to buy catfood.
That's kind of an indication where I'm at lately. No matter how sluggish I feel, I always take care of the Beast. Worst case, I told myself yesterday, I have tuna on hand, so he may reap the rewards of my indolence if I can't get myself to the store before dinnertime.
The one concrete achievement I have from yesterday is that I helped the neighbours plant bulbs. The one works for a park district and schnagged them from work. I remember when I was finished, I asked myself if I'd be around long enough to see the fruits of my labour. Of course I will, I thought, I'm not moving out of this place until I meet someone new. At least I didn't have a moment of melancholy lamenting that Monshu wouldn't be around to see the tulips bloom and that feels like progress.