Problematic

There are events you prepare for that color the day. Every moment is tinted, awash, with sadness. A murky, smothering color that catches in your breath. You shouldn't breathe color. I like blue and gray, so I don't think I would associate either color with this feeling. It's more surreal. A cloudy sepia tone. Hot and abrasive. It's been overwhelming. We picked her up at 4:15. I had already had a few sobbing fits and when the young lady handed her little brown box to me I startled her with my emotion. This in turn startled me. How could this not be normal? How could someone find the strength in little more than a week to keep themselves composed in this moment? How could I be expected to hold back my tears when I recognize her name on the small wooden box? I clutch it as I clutched her body when I found her and feel this new texture. This new body. So delicately carved with flowers. No perceivable way to open it. A shining black placard on the front- engraved with a ...

Back to work. It's hard some days not to take the grayness of a rainy morning personally. Although, I suppose, I am not sure how a sunny day would be better. I guess it is more accurate to say that it is hard some days not to take the continued existence of the universe personally. I know others have suffered arguably greater losses within the last few days. Human life should typically outweigh that of an animal, I guess. But is it my fault that my best friend was a cat? Probably. I don’t know what the proper time frame to grieve would be…I am torn between trying to convince myself she was just a cat and dedicating so much emotion is becoming a spectacle (I knew she would no longer be here one day, even if I apparently hadn’t accepted that fact) and the urge to hold onto this pain like her body. As though trapping this tightness in my chest for the rest of my life will slowly regenerate her over time and bind her to me for eternity. That would be cruel, though, wouldn’t it?...

I haven't been able to sketch lately, but at least I have been able to write, I suppose. I feel I should be reading more as well. I began reading The Stranger again, and that has been a slow trough through venomous mediocrity. I don't know if I get it. I'm also trying to read Mansfield Park but have had some trouble getting through the foreword. Perhaps I don't need to read it, but I have learned some interesting perspectives from forewords and so I inclined to preserver (a word I thought had an e at the end). I have started receiving mail at my new apartment. Packages. In my fridge there is eggs, kale, mushrooms, baby carrots, diet cherry Dr. Pepper, Le Croix, and hard cider (a special summer ginger flavor!) Of these things I have only used the Dr. Pepper and the Le Croix. Oh, and a Brita! I purchased that on my second day here. There's clothes, blankets and books strewn across the floor which makes the space feel comfortably snug. The bed on one end, open to a...