If life was like cooking I'd have it made. Need things to cohere? Add eggs. Need it lighter? Whip air into it. Want it richer? Add cream. Ruin a dish? Toss it and start over. But there's no fixing life, and few chances to toss it all and start over.
This week has been awful. As I told Boomer tonight, I got nothing. He asked if I'm numb. I wish I was numb. What I am is a deep murky pot of sadness, and so submerged that it's all I can see. So until I can rise, I'll be quiet.
Stay well, everyone.
The Door Is Ajar.
6 days ago