Some quotidian facts.
In July, I said to myself, out loud, "Wow, my life is going great and nothing bad has happened to me in a long time."
We moved to a new apartment in the same city, but the new neighborhood is like home and amazing.
I lost my job, went camping, went to a folk festival.
Got a new job.
My dad finished a round of chemo/radiation and surgery to remove the obstruction, and is starting another round.
This morning I visited the American Textile History Museum, and watched a 16 minute film on Linen production, entirely in French.
Lately I've been feeling anxious about every bump in the road. I feel alone sometimes, and disconnected. Distrustful. Everything is fine, but little things feel difficult. I want to break down crying but I'm afraid that if I let down the hard shell, I won't be able to get it back together. And I think I need it for a while yet.
I have bitten off all my fingernails.
The sky is dark and we're heading back into winter.