Everybody manages their energy in different ways, right? Some people subscribe to the spoon theory, and others just schedule themselves really, really well. Not me. I have a pile of fucks, and they run out. Today, I have no fucks. I don’t have the fucks to be nice to the neighbors. I don’t have the fucks to
I thought it was supposed to feel like it isn’t real. I hear people say that it doesn’t feel real to them when someone dies… I don’t get it. I wake up several times a night, with no idea why I’m upset. The it hits me: George is dead. I return to restless sleep. I
I don’ t even know where to begin. At therapy yesterday, I received a message from George‘s mother, asking that I swing by and check on him. This isn’t an unusual request. He’s long since accepted that I would just show up sometimes to make sure he was okay. My therapist’s office was about, I dunno,
