Monday, February 09, 2004


I could take this opportunity to explain my day, my work day, the importance of furniture arriving on time, of flooring and countertops, of fire alarms and stainless steel shelving, but what fun would that be?

My best friend was over here with her ex husband. Lorretta of soulwake She says she can tell I'm leaving. She would know. Things are just a little off kilter here in the old sanctuary, the place where stray dogs and wayward men have tried to lived, but died in the unforgiving climate of blind neglect. No.... that was another life, another time. This sanctuary, so long in the making, is empty now. Already. I'm going to fold clothes and do my last year's taxes, make dinner for one. I don't know how to move alone. I don't know how to end a life and begin a new one. I just want to leave it all. I won't, of course. But the terrible spot on the floor, the blemish, the evidence, is pushing me out the door like a fist. I am done here.

I just spoke to my sister on the phone. My only sister. I want to disappear from my family and have nothing more of them. Only my son.

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