I think I may have mentioned in a former post that after my friend Sue died, I spent at least a month incapable of much more than lying in a fetal position on the couch watching infomercials on TV. Although I knew this was not a life nor was it an appropriate response to the death of a friend, I just could not help it. I suppose, looking back, it was better than simply lying in a fetal position in bed.
I feel now, after Lynn's death, that I am not as profoundly affected in such an incapacitating way. However, upon observing my latest major time-sucking activity, I think I may be in error in thinking that.
I found, by chance, a blog site that I have spent more hours reading than I would admit to anyone in the entire world. Thank God my dogs can't talk and report me to the authorities on this one. And you'd think, wouldn't you? that reading one person's blog would be a sort of self-limiting activity because there is an actual end to the entries. However, in this case, this person has been blogging since 2001 and has put up a new blog at least daily for most of the past seven years.
It's mind-boggling and I am nowhere near caught up to the present time, although of course I have been "cheating" by reading the newest ones too and let me add- this person's spouse has his own blog so I can read two different takes on the same situations and, well, I think I need to get to a meeting or something.
I am not going to mention the name or address of this site because although I think I am only doing this obsessive blog-reading in a weird sort of grief reaction, it may be that the site is actually crack you can consume without the use of a clumsy pipe.
I really don't want to contribute to anyone else's addictions. I'm sure we all have more than our share of THOSE.
I need to get out of the house and I am going to do that. Right now. I'm telling you the truth.
And let me also add that all the flowers that came into the house for Lynn's party have now died and I've taken them outside and dumped them in the woods and emptied their vases of the smelly ick-water and swept up the petals from the floor.
This seems profound somehow, although I'm sure it's not really.
