Thursday morning

Mom calls early about my grandmother who is complaining her stomach pains are worse, that she was unable to sleep all through the night. She says she will call back when she knows more. She calls back talking a mile a minute. My grandmother has changed her story, “I’m just sore. I couldn’t sleep only because I couldn’t sleep…”

The two of them fight back and forth and curse the doctors. I’m glad I’m not in the middle of it. They create so much drama around them it’s ridiculous. They want to color every page of the coloring book.

I don’t want to say much more. It’s been a habit, a bad one, to talk ill of them when asked. “How’s your mom doing?” Oh, well, she’s a pain in my ass. And so on.

Better get back to bed and let the medications do their work. Take advantage of sleep while you still can. Go for extended periods. In quiet, mull over what you want to write next. Mull over what you just read in a book. Admire from afar. Admire at close range.

Chain lock on the door.
List of groceries on the floor.

School. Cool. Fool. May people stop rhyming these together. If you wanna be cool, don’t be a fool, stay in school.


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