The good thing is that since I’m so hollow and achy about my grandma, whenever my ex’s face tumbles through my timeline, what once registered as abject panic and pain now is just a resigned numbness.

2016 sucks and I’d like my money back, please.



Home, Part Three: Palliatives

Home, Part Three: Palliatives

It started this morning, when I remembered I turned down the opportunity to get a pedicure with her. Suburban pedis are expensive, and I didn’t want her to spend her money treating me; what’s more, I didn’t want to shell out the bucks for one.

So, instead, I gave up two precious hours and killed time in Wal-Mart, like a fucking rookie. The audacity in thinking we have indefinite time! Continue reading “Home, Part Three: Palliatives”