February 7th

Posted: February 7, 2013 in Uncategorized

Dear journal,

I decided to open the door to the room that will one day become my office, since I haven’t done so in years, and the current state is about as bad as you can imagine. The fact that I wasn’t completely flattened by an avalanche of junk when I open the door was a blessing (it did a landslide that hit the wall instead before bouncing in my direction, giving me a chance to jump out-of-the-way). The room is bigger than I remember from my youth, which means two things: it will take longer than I thought to clear it out and will be more spacious when I’m done transforming it than I had originally thought.

Fortunately, this area seems to be where Mother stored the things that even she might have admitted were on their last legs of usefulness, so it shouldn’t be too hard to sort (I’ve already set aside three bags of garbage to put out on the curb). I’ll likely get a lot of materials that can be repurposed by someone else at The Centre, but doubt I’ll find much that I will want to keep. I’m hoping that there is some furniture somewhere in that room that I can convert to my liking, so I don’t have to find office furniture when the time comes to make the space functional. A desk would be great, and I’m hoping for a few book shelves as well. As long as they can still hold weight, I’m happy, since I can easily paint them if they are a gross colour.

After dropping off more bags at The Centre (I literally dropped them and got out of there fast before the staff had time to greet me by name again), I went for another walk around the town, just to stretch my legs and stay out of the house long enough to breathe in some fresh air. This would be a good idea on most days, but unfortunately I came across another scene that the Recovery Team was still cleaning up. This time it involved a little girl and her parents – none of them were able to be saved. There was blood spatter on the front lawn, and all over a small tricycle that looked like it was pink before the blood got there. I didn’t feel so happy-go-lucky after that. I got my shopping done, but didn’t really pick up much, since I wasn’t very hungry after seeing that scene. I picked up one of the most luxurious items I’ve sprung for in a long time – some bubble bath. I haven’t bought any in many years, because it is such a rare item, and therefore expensive, but my brain settled on it and figured it might be one of the best ways to get the visions from the most recent breach out of my head. I wasn’t buying much else, anyway, so I figure I can afford it, and hoard it in my en suite for sucky days.

The bath, once I got it to a temperature that I could stand, was really soothing. I read one of Mother’s old books until the water turned cold and the last of the bubbles had long faded, and then I turned on the hot tap to warm me back up before getting out and drying off. I distracted myself with this for long enough that I had become hungry again and fixed a quick dinner and some tea before curling up on the couch, although I can’t really tell you what I watched. I just let the sounds run in one ear and out the other and watched shadows play again my windows. I’m actually rather tired from doing so, but figured I shouldn’t break my 37 (now 38) day streak of getting my writing done. Today isn’t a day that I would want to repeat, and I know it will be a while until I get that recovery scene out of my head, but I guess it is important to document these things, so that someone remembers someone about the people who have gone, even if it is just a small detail like a small, pink tricycle.

Always,
-Miriam

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