So, I thought I should probably go on ahead and post something before I get one of those friendly Blogher ad network emails that say, “Hey, Loser! We like totally understand if you’re too much of a lightweight to post consistently, but if you don’t get some shit up there in a hurry, we’re going to yank your ads for a spell.” Actually, they are a bit more understanding than that, and sure, who wants their ads running on a blog with a stale post at the fore? Nobody, that’s who. And even though I am a teeny, tiny blog, I did earn enough money from Blogher to at least pay my hosting cost for the year, so I’m not ungrateful.
I am sort of depressed, though. I’m not even being sarcastic. Well, depressed might not exactly be the right word. Which is why I’ve modified it with “sort of.” But it just sucks. And yeah, I know, I am still grieving the death of my beautiful young step-sister (and can I just please say this: when I say “step” please don’t think that I say that because she was somehow less sister-like. I’m just a stickler for accuracy in these things.) Grief feels like depression, though it is not the same thing. It actually sucks a lot less, other than the fact that it means somebody or something of importance has died.
I’m not sleeping great, I’m distracted, I’m not doing things that need to get done, I’m not really here when I’m here, sometimes just bursting out into tears for no goddamn reason until I realize, oh yeah, she’s just fucking gone. Gone. Gone for good.
I absolutely hate the absolutes of life.
Fuck certainty and give me the unknowns. Give me the possibilities. I will take them all in exchange for that one inevitability.
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I don’t know how you wouldn’t be depressed, friend. I’m just so sorry. I wish I had something good and pithy to say, but my heart just hurts when I think about it. Love to you.