Nothing Much to Say

I haven't got much to say. It turns out that running to skilled nursing once or twice a day and in between running errands for your mother doesn't make for much to say. I'm tired. I think my cold might be coming back. I'm worried. I feel like this whole thing is some kind of terrible grisly rehearsal for the inevitable. I walk around my mothers house like a ghost, picking up stuff she wants. Her house makes me nervous. I'm kind of generally nervous. I'm lonely. I want someone to say, "My god! You are saintly! I'm so impressed with what you're doing for your mother." But alas. Nobody will say that, because it isn't saintly or even very important or interesting. It's just life. And life sucks a lot of the time.

I had some horrific thoughts last night on the nature of this god in whom I don't much believe. See, we go around thinking that God is benevolent, and we're all locked in this Manichean Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer heresy whereby we're all together in the light, fighting evil whether it comes in the form of a bloodthirsty zombie or Karl Rove (not a huge difference, okay.) Suppose that that idea is totally outdated. Suppose evil won a long time ago. Suppose God is actually malevolent and Satan rules in heaven, and all this evil shit that happens to us, day by day, is just the way it is. Not god giving us not quite more than we can handle (even not believing in the old white bearded fart on the cloud, I still draw comfort from my mother telling me that the good lord doesn't give us more than we can handle) but instead enjoying piling the shit right on, watching and rejoicing in the inevitable break. All darkness, all the way. Flips it a bit, doesn't it?

Think I should dig what's left of the Lexapro out of my underwear drawer yet? The dog ate one a few months ago with no notable effects - but there's some left. This whole thing is taking a hell of a lot out of me and I'm not here right now for various things I should be. Things as banal as bills and as important as my best friend, who's having a crisis, and I feel like shit, but I can't quite be there for her. I love you J, and it will be okay, and I'll be back, eventually. I'm really sorry. I'm not answering emails and I'm sorry about that too, kids. This isn't that big a deal, I know. Hopefully I'll get my shit back together soon, or as together as it ever is, which is to say, not much.