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I did the dishes. It wasn't too hard. Maybe that is the Neurontin kicking in. I am listening to some of my favorite music. I've been crying and missing the past.
The song on now says: "There is a balm in Gilead . . . to heal the sin-sick soul." And Paul Robeson's voice sounds so strong and reassuring. He, too, knew so much pain. Why are we put here to feel like this? I ask my God above. It is my fault, I know.
Next, I might clean up - shower. Make myself presentable. I feel so deformed. I'm so afraid of going to a job site.
This has come and passed before. Should it not happen that way again?
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