It’s really hard to read stuff like this. I know it’s going to get easier eventually, but it just makes me shudder every time I see or read another news piece about the crash. And also, every story I read has a different account of who exactly was wearing seat belts. The parents have told us that all their girls wore seat belts, all the time, and I believe them. I can’t wait ’till we get the accident report so we will know an official account of what happened.
Ginny’s not getting moved to the inpatient rehab today because it takes them forever to get anything done at that hospital. I do think it’s a legitimate issue of bed space – someone has to clear out before she can move in – but it feels like a constant waiting game. We never know when something’s going to happen. She’s still in good spirits though, and jokes that the flowers in her room are getting out of hand. We actually had to bring a couple of the larger dish gardens home, and still every surface in her room is covered in flowers. It’s kind of nice how it brightens up the room.
I went to the hospital and watched American Idol with her last night (Hey Cookie, my coworker says that PenBoi looks like a leprechaun) and stayed until she fell asleep, and then I came home and went straight to bed myself. I haven’t worked out since last Monday and I can really feel its impact on my energy levels. I need to get my ass on the treadmill or force my way through a half-hour of kickboxing, but I just feel completely exhausted, like if I put my head down on the desk right now I would go right to sleep. I think I may take Friday off to catch up on some sleep, but if I do that I’ll get further behind in my work. It’s a big question – do I take care of my professional responsibilities or my health? How can I take another day off when I was off all last week?
There’s a store in town that I pass sometimes called “Asian Grocery and 99 Cent Store.” I just wanted to share that with you all.
So yeah, that about sums it up at the moment. I’m tired. And we haven’t been to the grocery store since last Sunday, before the wreck, which is supremely odd for our family of six. Usually someone has to stop for bread and milk and Diet Coke almost daily. But people have given us so much food that we haven’t really needed to shop, which is good because we keep forgetting.
Oh, and I finished Bee Season last night. Yay for waiting rooms and tons of free time, in a way, because I’ve gotten through two and a half books in the last ten days. That’s awesome. Anyway. Bee Season kind of annoyed me. Myla Goldberg has this weird way of constructing some of her sentences, and does it at least once in every paragraph, it seems. It’s kind of like this:
Eliza watches her mother, thinks about the dog she saw outside, takes a deep breath.
He waits for the bus, climbs on board, finds his seat.
She feels the new leather, wonders how it can be so soft, smells its buttery scent.
These aren’t taken directly from the book because I don’t have it with me, but they’re pretty close.
For some reason my brain isn’t alert enough to tell me exactly what’s wrong with writing that way, but I know something must be off about it because it’s standing out to me and making me annoyed when I see it. And seriously, people, she does it all the time. It seems affected somehow, like something she’s developed to call her “style.” Writer people, help me out. Why does it bug me so much?
Maybe because I’m tired.