I’m doing better. I remembered my husband’s birthday. I already woke him up with…my knowledge of his birthday. He was very happy.
Okay yes, birthday sex is very clichéd but you know what? So am I. That’s just how we roll.
James is in the shower so I’m writing quickly. I don’t really have much to say anyways. Things have been going well for us and I’m very content in my life right now. James is back home, Jason is…at school. I assume he’s succeeding or at least not flunking out since I haven’t heard anything from his teachers.
Work is fine – Heather’s a bitch. Everything’s back to normal.
Well, as normal as things can be these days.
I’ll admit that I haven’t…I feel…I…
I miss my daughter.
I know that it’s natural and there’s nothing I can do to change what happened but I just want her back home. It occurred to me the other day that I haven’t been in her bedroom since she died and…I still haven’t.
I think I’m scared.
I don’t get scared very often any more. Not about trivial things like bedrooms.
I just don’t want to put her things away. With Christmas so close I’ll probably lose all willpower to do what “needs to be done”. That’s how James describes it.
I love Christmas. All those extra people on the street late at night, carrying money and gifts so murder suddenly becomes a “mugging gone wrong” and I don’t have to spend money on gifts for my co-workers. It’s the best.
Maybe a couple of kills will get my mind off of such morbid things.
I just heard the shower turn off so I’m going to leave things here.
As always, dear readers,