Pizza Crust Demarcation Line!
So, I think I may send her a birthday card. Because I'm an idiot. And because...well, I can't help but be me.
Anyway...listening to the Lyrics Whore Playlist, which is both good and bad, because it's immersion therapy. Someday, these songs won't make me wince. Someday, I won't get the idiotic urge to reread old emails and old journals. Someday, I'll be able to not feel a little bit broken. Someday, I'll be able to accept things. And someday, I'll be dead.
Well, that was cheery.
But I'm still involved in cleaning. Day 7 of the mess. The den is now completely reclaimed...And I think it's time to move to the living room, and do a little bit of rearranging of the furniture. There is way too much furniture. Especially for that little of space. I think I may move the loveseat into the den, and then, that'll open up the whole thing. Yeah...maybe.
I miss my cat. I can't believe that he's dead, and that the last time I saw him, I was nuzzling his belly and telling him I'd be home in a few years. He's buried out back, like a good Pirate, he's watching over some buried treasure...and I went out this morning and sat by where he was buried. I don't know why we do that as a people. Go back to the spots where the bodies are. I don't know why I keep mulling over the grave of something that's been dead for a while.
I don't know why I'm still an idiot about her. My possessions are causing me suspicion, but there's no proof.
In a couple of months, yard sale season, and I'm gonna make a ton of money selling old memories cast in resin, metal, plastic and glass. How much for this memory? How much for peace of mind?