I took a shower today. I remember taking one the day after Anthony’s burial last Thursday, I think. Maybe…might have been Tuesday before? I really don’t remember anymore. The days just all seem to blend. I get up, do lots of stuff on autopilot, talk to family, answer about half the emails and texts I receive and go to bed.
Sorry to my friends I haven’t answered today, you’re not alone.
All I know was this morning I smelled really funky and my hair was greasy as hell. It was time to scrub.
Even tho I was in desperate need of soap, I continued to postpone my shower until 1pm in the afternoon. The thank you cards had to be finished. All 312 of them. Lou offered to take over and do some of them for me, his offer was met with a kind but firm “hell no.” I had my flow going. I have a system. I was the person who had to write each one. I didn’t need anyone stepping in for me now. This was my job to do and I wanted them done.
I spent 10 hours on them yesterday and I was determined to finish them today. I think I remember saying I wanted to shower yesterday too. Never happened.
About 1pm I took a break from card writing, I had completed all the addresses I knew, and was waiting for a few texts and emails to come in. It was time to clean up and groom this dog.
Hot water feels amazing sometimes. The minute I put my head underneath the water I was instantly calm. I missed feeling calm, and clean.
After a good shampoo and scrub I got out of the shower and looked down. My legs looked like a man’s legs. I don’t think I have removed the hair on my legs since January 28, the day before my world turned upside down.
I really wasn’t in the mood, but it was time. My Anthony really would have given me shit for looking the way I do. I could hear him now “Ma, seriously, that is just gross.” My epilator was on overdrive for the next 30 minutes.
Funny, I was really rushing and if any of you use one, you know you cannot rush. I felt like I was wasting precious time by taking care of my legs. I had survived the funeral by wearing black opaque tights. A few more days in sweatpants won’t matter.
Did it anyway. Didn’t do a great job, but it was time to groom the dog.
Lou called my legs a “Chia Pet,” he is lucky he is sleeping in my bed tonight. However I would never tell him he was right. My legs looked like a human science experiment.
I don’t even know why I showered and groomed. What was the purpose of cleaning up! It’s not like I am going anywhere. It’s not like I want to go anywhere.
I still refuse to brush my hair or put on any makeup. At least my teeth get some attention.