Today is the year (at least by non-lunar calendar) anniversary of a death in the family. I didn’t think I’d be as affected by it as I am. I mean, it’s been a year. Right? But I am. I can’t seem to stop sleeping.
Perhaps it’s a coincidence–maybe I am sick or so besieged with allergies that my body craves the rest. But there is an unfamiliar subdued feeling that tells me that I might just be fucking sad.