Yesterday I wrote this …

Yes, it is a plague, only we don’t call it that anymore do we? Far too many dire associations.

But aren’t times dire?

As more and more of the world, the global connectivity, shuts down, more countries shut their doors, and any ‘official’ number of cases need to be multiplied by a factor of ten to come anywhere near a realistic number, the word ‘dire’ comes more and more to mind.

… and that’s as far as I got.

I was planning on deconstructing the concept, and bring out the ‘hope’ in the title of this post, but one minute I was sitting at my computer writing, and the next I was sitting in the glorious sunshine in our backyard (sunshine at last!) sobbing my heart out.

I broke, no lasting damage done, but I broke.

And it’s not that I haven’t been looking after myself both physically and emotionally, but it wasn’t enough without something to empty my full-to-the-brim-with-emotions, heart.

Sometimes you have to sit in the sunshine and cry, big diaphragm-ache-inducing tears.

At some point it will happen to you too, if it hasn’t already, and that’s a good thing. We can’t go around feeling like an exposed and raw nerve forever.

Chuck Wendig wrote in his latest post, ‘…We’re all in mourning from the death of normalcy…’ In his wonderful Chuck Wendig way, he spells it out so clearly, that he’s feeling, ‘… definitely, absolutely, unfuckwithably not okay…’  Go read the whole piece, it’s worth it.

After yesterday my chest doesn’t feel as though it’s going to crack under the strain. I’ve been weeping on and off since then, at the oddest things, so that I smile as I weep. (I’ll be OK, just not quite yet)

Point in case, cats and dominos …