I went to see SNAKES ON A PLANE tonight with my friends. Possibly some sort of therapy was to be had there. Most likely not. The hubby asked if I was really sure I wanted to see a movie about a plane.
I said that there weren't any SNAKES on flight 5191 so I figured I would be alright.
I was right, really, and the movie was a hoot but really all in all, I'm at a loss in general.
There is something I'm supposed to be doing, but I don't know what it is.
I suppose if I was near at hand I'd bake beans or a casserole and take it over to the family. That would be something to do. Something with a purpose.
I get up.
I go to work.
I come home.
I take care of my family.
But I need something to do.
Maybe I'm just seeking the closure that the shrinks are always babbling about. There isn't anything to be done now but bury the dead and I am certainly unqualified for that.
Bobby I'm so sorry this happened to you. There aren't enough words in the entire world for me to express how sorry I am. The word for my anger and pain hasn't been invented. I want to scream and rage but instead I'm pretty much just accepting that this isn't particularly useful so I don't bother. The universe isn't listening anyway.
I don't know what I need to do. When I figure it out I'll let you know.