Is it really quiet around here lately or is it just me? Seems like everyone is collectively holding his/her breath. Or something. Everyone is waiting -- on tests, on cycles, on information, on time to hurry up and pass the fuck on already, on decisions.
We didn't circle the day or put Maddy's name on the calendar, but it was sitting there, staring at us, blinking neon and glowing in the dark, and suddenly we were putting stuff down in that square. Mr. ABF's monthly poker game, the second Thursday, it turns out will fall on that night. And if he gets out of the house late for a beer with his male buddies -- on that evening especially -- I say more power to him. We're hosting a fundraiser next month for a neighborhood association, and the organizational reception is . . . also this Thursday. We've been told it's only an hour or so of our time early in the evening, so a nice neighbor is going to come watch Bella as she conducts bath and bedtime. Seeing as Bella runs her own water and dresses herself and brushes her own teeth and otherwise acts as though she's 26, I told her it's not really "babysitting" as much as making sure the dogs don't eat something they shouldn't.
I rationalize, telling myself we'd do these things anyway, even if Maddy were alive. A birthday would be celebrated on the weekend, and she'd be in bed by poker time anyway. Bella would be the most pissed about missing an excuse for a cupcake.
And then in the next breath, who am I kidding, there is no Maddy. And so we book the square and it's all so . . . life goes on . . . that it seems disrespectful somehow, and yet . . . I don't know what I'd do with myself sitting around that night anyway, so it's just as well I'm going four houses down and having a glass of wine. It's not as if I'll miss her any less.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do this Thursday, or any of the days beyond. Keep writing in the squares, I suppose. Keep getting up and putting my feet on the floor. Keep on functioning.