I don't want to talk about it.

I've been in a bad mood lately. It's a culmination of events, and it's a no-brainer.

I've spent many of these last short weeks of summer chasing something that I couldn't find. I'm not sure what -- it just wasn't there. I've been busybusy, but I've been in pain, and I haven't really and truly been doing what I wanted. Now what may be my last relatively "healthy" summer is over, and for all the miles I've logged I feel that it's somehow been squandered. Bummer, huh?

Work is looming -- I already feel behind, because I haven't gone in yesterday or today -- and I don't have the energy for the big start-of-the-year push. The first two months can make or break the year, and I just don't feel like I can do it. I know I'll find a way to make it work, but I don't even like thinking about it.

My ribcage hurts, my black and blue toe hurts, my clavicle hurts, my scapula hurts, my hip hurts...

We spent time in hospitals in Florida. Eric's father and grandmother were both in hospitals. They're both out now, although Bob is in a rehab facility.

I looked at these two people -- one in his early 70's, the other in her early 90's --- being moved from bed to wheelchair and wheelchair to bed, and I was so envious of them. Here they are, oldoldold, and alive and reading the paper and surrounded by people who love them. I'm going to die, soon, with Eric holding my hand, and knowing (if anything can penetrate the morphine fog) that I'm leaving the only person who ever loved me completely and unquestioningly and in a way that I could understand, with a ragged and tragicly broken heart.

I've been in a bad mood lately and I don't want to talk about it.