tutto

A student whom I love came by to talk today. He, for some reason, seems to get shit out of me that no one else does. Today it was my father going under the knife, his clogged aorta, my mother's guity-laden conversation and her "keep him in your prayers" attitude. I didn't have the strength to tell her I haven't talked to God in some time.
So, the conversation turned to things we enjoyed doing in our limited free time. I told him I didn't know. He laughed.
"What did you do on your day off last week?"
"I worked until 6."
"Oh."
I went back to playing the bass plugged in and hot.

The most horrific physical pain I have felt since I birthed my child has been with me this week. Reactions to meds are never fun, especially when they leave enormous blisters on your tongue and hard and soft palate and make you cry out in stabbing debilitating pain. Eating has been impossible; talking is unpleasant. The only thing that seems to pacify is ice.
Today has been bearable. I got to thinking that just when you think you have felt your worst, something else crops up to tell you otherwise. I feel like Jesus on the freaking cross.

Maybe I should take up prayer?