Yesterday a friend came in for framing; I realized that yes, of course, it had been her that called the day before. But up at 6 a.m. to finish someone else’s who I thought had called because the mind just wasn’t sharp enough to grasp life outside the bubble.
Apologized for unprofessional behavior; she said she understood. But it still is unacceptable and I realize I’ve let it slide to a level of near oblivion to the outside world while focusing on just one, or maybe two things that have overtaken all my time and energy. Numb to all else it would appear.
Time to put my house in order.
Maybe I can write. Maybe I can.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology