My Pity Party Started This Week

Lately the shock that I’m insulating myself with is wearing even thinner. I’m 25 weeks into this disaster and next week will be 26 weeks. That’s six months for those that don’t regularly consult calendars or the mathematics contained therein. Once the 26 week mark arrives, there is no more measurement by weeks – it switches over to months. 6 months. Halfway to a year.

The thing about six months is that reality really starts to take hold. I can’t pretend I haven’t seen her in six months. I can’t fool myself into the comfort a temporary situation affords. Six months isn’t temporary.

Clearly day 1 wasn’t temporary – but I can pretty easily lie myself into any situation. I go in with my head held high, certain that I can make better whatever hot mess I waded into. Ugly parts of life gilded with self lies.

I’ve fallen back into the waves of clarity (?) I was trapped in those first couple of weeks. Crashes of life fall into me and I can’t hold them back. And, sadly, I used up my “leaning into the situation” energy at Christmas. I can’t lean into this. Not right now. Maybe tomorrow. Or Sunday.

Overall I’m just… defeated. And deflated.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll stick to my guns on this, but I find “signs” to be problematic. I don’t like them. I feel people look too hard into coincidence and they generally don’t hold up to scrutiny and critical thinking.

That being said, twice today the universe winked at me.

The first time was first thing this morning. There was an emergency at work and someone needed to drive to a place in metro Detroit to pick up some parts for a down press in the shop. I had to coordinate the purchase and the transport.

I mapped the destination and found it was almost exactly one mile from where Joe and Z passed away. The neighborhood I swore I would never visit again (it’s cursed, clearly) and I was staring at it right in the face. Except from the comfort of my office.

Just now, an old friend of Z’s stopped by. It was 11:00 and I was closing up the house for the night when she rang the doorbell. We hugged and she told me some (temporarily) confidential information that directly ties to Z. Very sweet and touching confidential information.

There it was again, the universe all up in my face.

It really is nothing. It is coincidence. And no sign in my life, however comforting or conjured, will compare to The Rosary situation. But sill, I’m not sure I like the universe trying to add extra elements to my (pretty outstanding) pity party.

Joke’s on you, universe. It didn’t make me feel better.

Except for maybe 3% better. But that’s it.

0 stars. Would not recommend.

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