Bracing For Impact
I must be suffering from the effects of residual stress because my head has been pounding all day. I can only assume that it is my body reacting to what I have yet to wrap my mind around completely: that in a matter of hours, my calm will be disrupted by the arrival of mr horrible. I have been too busy to really stop and take stock.
Already Brushing Off the Dust
There are entire music playlists I can't listen to anymore. Then this song came on the radio and made me want to punch someone in the face. That made me happy.
Smartphones and the Art of Listening
My sociology professor made us put our phones face-down to learn about listening. It reminded me of the last months of my marriage — texting my BFF from the sofa so I wouldn't say what I actually wanted to say.
Who’s going to comfort me?
Faced with a difficult decision, I lament not having someone else to lean on. Who will comfort me when I have to keep it together?
Filled With Regret
Fiona Apple wrote a song that sounded like she'd been in my marriage. Regret is on repeat. He opposed me just to oppose me. He didn't see me. That's regret.
