When I look in the mirror, the first thing I notice are my eyes--more specifically, the red veins popping out of them. At least, that's what I notice when I can actually focus correctly. Most of the time, there are blurry spots which make it difficult to see clearly and particularly dangerous to drive.

Today, I took the day off work. There are so many preparations to do and errands to run and loose ends to tie up that I'm overwhelmed. They say you need to keep busy to deal with grief, but I firmly believe they are wrong--you don't deal with jack shit by keeping busy. You just run yourself ragged so that you're so tired you can't feel anything anymore, but you know it's there, waiting for you to get a good night's sleep so it can pounce on you in the morning when you're taking a shower or brushing your teeth.

I'm going back to work tomorrow. I really don't want to, but I need the money to help my family out in little ways. In addition to work, I've got to make a poster-sized collage for the viewing (since I'm pretty much the only person competent enough to do it) and write part of the eulogy for my grandmother's funeral.

I want it so much to be over, but even more, I want it to have never occurred in the first place. In an alternate universe, this week is a normal one: I'm ordering reagents and supplies, working up chemical reactions, and analyzing heaps of data. But instead, here I am, choosing floral arrangements, sifting through and scanning old photographs, and burying my grandmother. There is something completely unfair about that, and no amount of well-intended everything-happens-for-a reasons won't change that or alleviate the pain. Because in my estimation, nothing happens for some intrinsic reason--the universe is a cold, uncaring place, and it could all be over tomorrow for you or someone you love. Or maybe not. That's the crap-shoot we deal with, a cosmic die-roll whose odds we take in exchange for every single breath breathed and every single step taken--for every single fleeting moment we spend on this earth. To the wise, it's an admonition and a reminder that life is not to be taken for granted, because it can just as soon be taken forever.

oh, sweetie...
I'm so sorry. There's nothing I can say. *squeeze* *muah*
» Silver-dot- on 2007-07-11 02:25:10

I've been to Matsumoto, but Waiola is a zillion times better.
» randomjunk on 2007-07-14 03:01:08

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