A month now. That went fast. At this rate of healing, I’ll be up and at ’em in…who knows?
Tonight I started drafting some thank you cards to people who sent flowers or contributed funds. A select few will receive a card just for attending the memorial service and leaving their address in the guestbook (signing the guestbook is very important, people). But one of the notes I started writing—to someone Eddie knew for a very long time but I barely know them—was getting to be very long. For some reason I felt compelled to write this person a very long letter about…how I am doing. It was weird. Grief is weird. And then I remembered that I have a blog for writing weird stuff so I scrapped the letter.
So how I am doing. I made old chicken nuggets that I found in the back of the freezer and lied about what I ate when someone asked me if I had dinner already. I watched the Epic Life video again and thought I could make it through without crying, but the “Love Train” segment got me once again. I was proud of myself for not having a beer today (I’ve been having a drink every day) so I celebrated with a glass of wine. I talked on the phone with Lenny and Taz, which we do almost every day now, and felt lucky to have friends. I got invited to two parties and accepted both invitations. I made a mental plan to eat at Fleming’s, possibly party of one. I thought about riding my skateboard for the first time in years, but used poo on the sidewalk as an excuse not to. I worried about who would change the water filter in three months.
Overall, I am doing okay! Ahoy.
None of the stuff I wrote here was part of my weird letter to Chris Milk.