For several weeks I’ve been searching for a good, cheap spring bag to carry my stuff around in. I was tempted by the bright pink Isaac Mizrahi bag at Target, but I needed a bag that wouldn’t clash with the pink coat. So I finally got one. And it appears to work well with the pink coat. I’ve gotten lots of compliments.
I haven’t written because I’ve been having motivational difficulties. Writing is a challenge. Working is a challenge. Calling back my friends (I have voice mails from five or six people that I haven’t responded to yet) is a challenge. Going to the hospital is a challenge. Leaving once I’m there is a challenge. Getting out of bed is a challenge.
It’s hard, sometimes, to believe that only a few weeks ago I felt so full of possibility. I know that things are going to be okay eventually, but right now eventually seems an awful long way away.
Sammi and Jamie wrote their feelings about the whole thing on their own sites. I’m alternately impressed that they express themselves so well at 16 and 13, and sad that they have to go through this at all at 16 and 13.
But it’s not all bad, you guys. I swear. Last night, Mom and Dad and Sam and Jay and I were finally all together for probably the first time since the wreck. We ate dinner and watched American Idol, and ripped on the contestants and joked around and laughed and made fun of each other and even though we missed having Ginny there, it was the most family time we’ve had in a while. And we went to Target this weekend, finally, and to see Return of the King again, and we’re sort of trying to be normal whenever possible.
It’s just that trying to be normal is taking up a little more time than it used to.