Here I am again, staring at a blank screen. I want to fill it with words, but somehow that’s proving harder than it sounds. A blank page can be oddly intimidating, so full of possibility, yet so stubbornly empty at the same time.
My day started early. Very early. I woke up at 4:30 this morning, which feels like a time that should still belong to the moon rather than to people making coffee. I made Tommy’s coffee, packed his lunch into his backpack, took the dogs outside, and let the cats into the garage. They much prefer it out there in the morning.
After Tommy left for work, I put the empty water bottles out for collection. Then, because apparently everyone collectively decided I had been awake long enough, I was told I should go back to sleep since I had been up so early. I wasn’t exactly sleepy, but I tried anyway. By that point, Kel and Chris had already left for work and school, so the house was quiet again.
I ended up waking up around 9. Not the most restful sleep, but enough to feel like the day had properly begun. I showered, went through my usual morning routine, made myself a cup of coffee, and came into the office. And that’s where I am now, sitting here with my coffee, staring at this blank screen, trying to decide what exactly deserves to be written about today.
In a few minutes, I’ll start studying. Tuesday is my “read the chapter and take notes” day. I actually like having this personal curriculum. It gives my day some structure and takes away the question of what should I be doing right now? When I sit down at my desk, I already know the answer.
Of course, before studying, I usually like to write in my journal. It’s become part of the ritual of sitting down at the computer. Some days, the words come easily. Other days, like today, it feels a little like pulling thoughts out of thin air. When you don’t have a clear topic, the writing sometimes turns into a commentary on the fact that you don’t have a topic… which is exactly what I seem to be doing.
On a completely different note, I recently got a new fountain pen ink for a pen that I currently cannot find. Most of my pens are now living inside a tote because my broken desk has officially reached its storage capacity. Apparently, there is a limit to how many things one desk can hold, and I have discovered it.
I did swatch the ink in my journal, though. The funny thing is that the ink is advertised as “dark yellow,” which sounded intriguing. In reality, it is very much green. Not even slightly yellow. More like an olive green. Then again, olive green does have a lot of yellow blended into it, so perhaps the description isn’t entirely wrong, just… optimistic.
Either way, I like the color. Now I just need to locate the missing fountain pen so I can actually ink it up and use it.
But that’s a small mystery for later.
For now, it’s time to start studying. Tuesday is waiting.
I studied for a bit today, though my brain seemed determined to play a game of “Let’s Forget Important Appointments.” I kept forgetting that I had therapy. At one point, I remembered, then forgot again, then remembered again, like my brain had put it on a rotating reminder schedule. Finally, at 1:00, it clicked: Oh, right, therapy in an hour.
Thankfully, my laptop was actually charged this time. Technology and I do not always cooperate when it matters most, so I was pleasantly surprised when everything worked the way it was supposed to.
During therapy we talked about the upcoming parole hearing for the drunk driver who hit Kevin. It’s something that’s been sitting quietly in the back of my mind, and now that it’s getting closer, it feels more real. My therapist asked how I’m feeling about it and whether I think the driver should be released or not. Those are heavy questions. I told him that I already wrote a letter to the parole board explaining my thoughts.
Writing that letter was harder than I expected. It brought up a lot of emotions, sadness, anger, and a kind of heaviness that’s hard to describe. Putting those feelings into words meant revisiting things I usually try not to sit with for too long. By the time I finished, I felt emotionally drained, like I had just carried a heavy box across the room and then realized there were still a few more to go.
I’m nervous about the upcoming parole hearing. I don’t really know what to expect, and that uncertainty makes it even harder. There’s a strange feeling that comes with it, like something important is about to happen, but you don’t quite know what it will look like or how it will feel when it does.
For now, I’m just trying to take it one step at a time. Some days it sits quietly in the background, and other days it feels a little closer to the surface. Today was one of the days when it came up and asked to be acknowledged.
On another note, Alexis came in with candy like a tiny candy ambassador delivering goods to the household. She handed me two Reese’s Sticks, which sounded like a perfectly reasonable and delightful situation. I took one bite… and immediately realized I had made a grave miscalculation. It was so sweet. Not regular sweet, aggressively sweet. The kind of sweet that makes your teeth question their life choices. I like Reese’s, but this was a whole different level. After one bite, I waved the white flag and threw the rest away.
Anyway, I’m about to post my journal and then go put my laundry away. I’m feeling that strong urge to step away from the computer for a bit and do something simple and physical, like folding clothes. Today’s therapy session was pretty draining, and my brain feels a little worn out.
