I Tend Not To Think

Dear God. Not Only Am I Unemployed And Homeless, But I Also Have A Pregnant Woman, Bereaved Dog, Elephant, And Eleven Horses To Take Care Of.

I'm Truly Grateful For My Microwave, Which Allows Me To Easily Clarify Butter, Steam Vegetables, And - When I Am Really Lazy - Feed My Three Kids In Less Than Five Minutes.

...if You Expect People To Try To Do Things Your Way, You're Going To Have To Give Some Hints As To What That Way Is.

What Else Do I Have To Offer? Nothing Happens To Me Anymore. That’s The Reality Of Getting Old, And I Guess That’s Really The Crux Of The Matter. I’m Not Ready To Be Old Yet.

Afterward, I Curl Around Her. We Lie In Silence Until Darkness Falls, And Then, Haltingly, She Begins To Talk...she Speaks Without Need Or Even Room For Response, So I Simply Hold Her And Stroke Her Hair. She Talks Of The Pain, Grief, And Horror Of The Past Four Years; Of Learning To Cope With Being The Wife Of A Man So Violent And Unpredictable His Touch Made Her Skin Crawl And Of Thinking, Until Quite Recently, That She'd Finally Managed To Do That. And Then, Finally, Of How My Appearance Had Forced Her To Realize She Hadn't Learned To Cope At All.