Daybook 02mar24

A terrorist network of black cats must have crossed my path on the drive up to Minneapolis, or perhaps I unwittingly drove under a bunch of ladders. I must have done something because since arriving here my luck has been less than stellar. Mouthguard, glasses, and a bracelet — all broken. Then, in the hotel room the first night, I went to sit down in a chair but missed. I fell flat on my ass next to the chair and cracked the back of my skull against the wall. I’ve also managed to hit my head seven times going up the Airbnb’s basement stairs. Will I do it an eighth time? Probably! Thankfully, I’ve always been told I have a thick skull, so there should be no permanent damage.

The celebration of life is today, capping off a long, sad week. The days have all blended together like a chunky stew made with gloom and sorrow, and I couldn’t confidently tell you what I’ve done and when. One thing I am confident about is that I’m ready to sleep in my own bed again.

There have been some lighter moments to punch through the general melancholia. Dinner with some of Jess’s friends. Bookstores, including the very excellent shops Once Upon a Crime and Uncle Hugo’s & Uncle Edgar’s Bookstores. (I love me a themed bookstore, and these were done very well and staffed by lovely people.) I’m sure there have been other fun moments, but… well, see the paragraph above again.

FORECAST: Journeying home to Columbus tomorrow.

This pillow don’t come with us to Minneapolis, but it might be going home with us.

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