So through most of high school, I was into Paul Simon and Simon & Garfunkel, even his later stuff when he was just having a perpetual mid-life crisis because that’s how he makes money. But I didn’t know, because I was a teenager in the nineties and I didn’t know about all the life that … Continue reading Seven Weeks.
Author: fugitiveumbrellas
Back in Business
Two things: I am definitely going to start offering astrological services again. Services and pricing to come. Second thing: Six weeks in, I am now used to being alone. This is what it is, and one book has closed, the ink on the last page dried and set, and a brand new one, gleaming white … Continue reading Back in Business
One Month Plus In
I’m tired of mourning. This is work, and the more work I do, the more work I discover has to be done. I had to go back to work full time because I can’t afford to stay on bereavement even though I could really use the time to sort his affairs. But that is loss … Continue reading One Month Plus In
I am an incredible helpmate. I have a lot of that Virgo energy. I can work on your job and my job, your problems and my problems, your finances and my finances, your health and my health, your fears and my fears happily because that’s how you will know that I love you. And I … Continue reading
Grief; Transits in Quarantine
The silver lining to this is that I am pretty good at being alone anyway. I actually don’t mind sheltering in place since I can leave when I want to. Quarantine was awful. Not having a choice as to whether I stay in the apartment or not. Rick’s death. The process of announcing and dealing … Continue reading Grief; Transits in Quarantine
Grieving, Post-Quarantine
Numb is a good word. It’s been two and a half weeks since Ricky died, and I am embarking on the long business of wrapping up his life, wrapping up our life. If were able, I would take this slowly, but as it is, my lease ends on June 30, and there’s a lot of … Continue reading Grieving, Post-Quarantine
Grieving in Quaratine, Day 11:
I found that non-stop stand-up comedy is therapeutic to the point of necessity. I did pretty nothing except one thing: I cooked in the kitchen again. I can meet my basic needs again. Now, I’m trying to go to bed at a decent hour so I can try to stop fearing sleeping at night. And … Continue reading Grieving in Quaratine, Day 11:
Grieving in Quarantine: Day 10
I am not crying all the time. I am not cycling through my emotions so rapidly. I am not as dysfunctional as I was a few days ago, but I am aware that I have anxiety over strange things. I know I don’t have to be vigilant all the time, so I’m making myself not … Continue reading Grieving in Quarantine: Day 10
Grieving in Quarantine: Day 7
So he’s not coming back. I understand this intellectually, as this is the longest we have ever been apart, and I have spent seven days in my apartment without seeing him, without hearing him, without sending him a text message from the bathroom and him getting annoyed about it. I am not asking him what … Continue reading Grieving in Quarantine: Day 7
Grieving in Quarantine: Day 4
This is Cohosh Man. It’s not a man, and it’s not made of cohosh. It’s a sculpture of sorts Ricky made with foam crack filler. The coffee and inhaler make it a still-life. In time, he would become increasingly more dependent on those inhalers. He gave this to me the day that I was flying … Continue reading Grieving in Quarantine: Day 4
