Meredith Bronwen Mallory (garnettrees) wrote,
Meredith Bronwen Mallory

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Yes, but what does it *mean*?

I'm starting to feel a little crazy.

Tomorrow is the 18th-- for some reason, I woke up this morning and thought, oh, that means it will be time for... and the thought didn't finish itself. But I knew the date was important.

But *why*?

My nieces don't leave for camp until the 22nd. Neb's birthday is the 25th. My credit card bill isn't due until the 30th?

And yet something is supposed to happen tomorrow. Damned if I know what. I hope it isn't something stupid, like a movie or book release. I'll feel really dumb, if it is. It can't be a doctor's appointment, because I've *seen* all my doctors already this month in that rush of 'oh-my-god-its-summer-maybe-i-should-get-this-out-of-the-way'. Why the heck is the 18th stuck in my head?

On top of that, my grandmother called just a few minutes ago. She just wanted me to know that she wouldn't be in today, since she's taking my grandfather to the hospital. Oh god, I thought, fearing the worst, whatever for?
He's had a headache for three days, and this morning he woke up with double vision. It's just a precaution, she said.
Please let it just be a precaution.

I just saw him on Monday, too. I took a day trip to visit them at their summer place in Indiana. My grandmother and I went to the fleamarket, and he grilled some chicken for us when we came home. Later, I had my iPod on while I was doing dishes-- I didn't realize he was in the room with me, so I was mouthing the words and shaking my finger to the Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony". He sat down in a chair, which caught my attention, and then he started shaking his finger too, sort of laughing at me.
"Well," I said, "if you're gonna do that, you have to do the chair-dance, too." I demonstrated. Laughing, he mimicked, arms up and pumping and everything.
"You kids are so weird," he said.
"Nyah," I responded, "you're mean."
"No I'm not-- I'm the last of the good guys." Which is what he *always* says.

It's just a precaution. It's just a precaution.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I can't help it-- I spent all of yesterday doing laundry and other mindless tasks, trying to give my body something to do while my brain processed Susan's passing. But it won't process, not really. And I don't think washing every article of clothing I own is going to change that.


  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.