Million things
Eyes not on paper.
Feeling tired.
No energy for phone calls or texts.
Sleeping dog on the bed. Wising I could hide under the covers too.
My dad is going for chemo tomorrow. Also on the table, are talks about MAID. His wife, in a text, urges us to support him and not make a scene.
Her words infuriate me.
Her words are harsh and unthoughtful, and I wish a million things were not as they were.