Life was normal. I made a Christmas shopping list in the notes on my phone. I went to work, and I was preparing for a visit from Meredith and Jillian the next day.
Then that night, a Friday night, Mom called to tell us you were in the hospital. You know the rest. It's hard to believe that just two months ago nothing was wrong. I mean, of course something was wrong. So wrong. But we were so absolutely blissfully ignorant.
I had a mini meltdown this week about a stationery order gone terribly wrong (I will spare you the incredibly annoying details about the terrible customer service of a fancy old stationer. If you were here still you would definitely cut off this line of complaint).
I forced Amy to meet me for lunch and told her I couldn't stop being angry about this paper order (my favorite selections had sold out and so I wasn't getting what I wanted). As you know, I am ruthlessly pragmatic. So why couldn't I accept this and just move on?
Amy said it was not about the paper. Which I insisted wasn't true. "It IS about the paper" I kept repeating. But seriously, that's total bull.
I realized that part of why I want to stock up on nice stationery is that I got your beautiful Bulgari letter opener from your office. I am totally fixated on setting up a nice little stationery area in my home, with the paper knife you used to open letters. So, that is what it's about. Your letter opener is so, so lovely, and I am constantly afraid that I've lost it or it will get stolen. Also crazy. I never lose anything.
So I guess I'm just misplacing all my anger and sorrows this week onto the paper company. Lucky them...
xx
M
Finally you admit it's not about the paper :) And I'm laughing because I can still hear your anger towards the paper company in this post. And you're right, Dad would definitely cut off that line of complaint. Too bad I wasn't so effective!
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