I looked at the calendar on Thursday morning and was struck with the realization that my mom's been gone nine months. That seems especially significant since half my girlfriends are either pregnant or have recently had babies. Nine months can be a long time.
And it has been. In most ways, anyway. I've had two jobs in that time. Made four trips to the east coast. And spent a lot of time curled up on my bed, pondering the future. And doing a little bit of cursing the present. But I'm feeling a little better now. Just in the past two weeks, actually, I feel a little less burdened. And a little less depressed.
And I've had four good days in a row. The people at my job like me. The sun is shining. I'm going to see live music tonight for the first time in months. I've spent some good time with friends the past few days, and it's done a lot to lighten my mood.
I fully expect this is temporary, and I've been joking with friends that I'll probably be flattened by a bus on my commute next week, but right now, things are better.
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