The last month has been a hurricane. I say that in the literal sense that the storm itself has ripped up rooted aspects of my life… thrown them aside and life has casually asked me to re-plant them again. All as if every ounce of effort I put into planting those aspects was this grand mirage of hope that this hurricane would never hit me, that it would pass, that I was merely perched on the idea of worry.
All the while the other people who got carried into this shit storm knew it was coming all along. Those people granted themselves the grace of silently and emotionally prepping for the outcomes.
… and here I am… left picking up the pieces… with a bottle of wine and a broken shovel.