Today I'm not ok. I'm tired. I drank some coffee and hugged M for 15 seconds but it didn't help. My mother said I looked tired. I said thank-you. She asked me if I was angry, that I seemed angry. I said no. Unless I am, am I? I drove her home. Maybe singing will help. Maybe deep breathing will help. Now I'm at work and I'm warm. Am I getting sick? Is it because yesterday I decided out of the blue that I didn't do enough to help my friend who was troubled? Like, no where near enough. I should have done so much more. I was afraid and uncomfortable and selfish. That's the reality. I like to think if faced with the same situation I will have learned how to not be those things. I cried. The weight in my chest is heavy. Sometimes my heart rate feels extra skippy. Is it the luteal phase? Is it perimenopause? It's just a grumpy monkey day I guess. That's a book Henry likes. He doesn't know why, he's ...
