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Jul. 17th, 2005
what I'm not writing about today
Jul. 17th, 2005 03:42 pmIt's 27.8°C (82°F), 40.3°C (104.5°F) humidex. And showing little chance of cooling down over the next week. The library and pool will be our friends, I think.
Funny, I thought today I'd call Ingrid and my aunts Mary and Dory and Gilda, but now I don't feel like doing so. I don't really know what to say. So I think I'll say nothing, and just think my own thoughts to myself. Because this is the one year anniversary of my mother's death, so... yeah.
And I thought I'd maybe sit and write out a stream of consciousness of what's been going through my mind in the last few weeks, when I remember what was happening at this time last year, but... no, not going to do that either. Except to say that the song "Seasons of Love" from Rent struck a little too close to home when I heard it on the Rent trailer a few weeks ago, and has done so every time I've heard it since then.
I think I'll re-read parts of HBP instead. And write out other stuff when it's not feeling so unsettling and vague and frankly, painful.
Funny, I thought today I'd call Ingrid and my aunts Mary and Dory and Gilda, but now I don't feel like doing so. I don't really know what to say. So I think I'll say nothing, and just think my own thoughts to myself. Because this is the one year anniversary of my mother's death, so... yeah.
And I thought I'd maybe sit and write out a stream of consciousness of what's been going through my mind in the last few weeks, when I remember what was happening at this time last year, but... no, not going to do that either. Except to say that the song "Seasons of Love" from Rent struck a little too close to home when I heard it on the Rent trailer a few weeks ago, and has done so every time I've heard it since then.
I think I'll re-read parts of HBP instead. And write out other stuff when it's not feeling so unsettling and vague and frankly, painful.
