Quick update on Clara: she’s doing fine.
Look, I’ll even provide proof of life:
Sorry I didn’t have today’s newspaper to prop up with her, but I figured the cash would be enough to help you overlook that detail. We good?
Everyone’s aware I’ve had a rough time of it lately, yeah? I mean, I don’t need to go into all the reasons I can’t handle even one more thing going wrong right now—you just understand, because you’ve been following along and you get me, right?
Y’all, Clara started dropping leaves.
What’s worse, the lovely people who gave her to me have moved away.
What’s that? You don’t see how that’s relevant? Clearly you’ve forgotten my many issues surrounding gifts.
In case you’ve ever wondered what sort of head case I am: when planning for Offspring’s departure I realized we wouldn’t be able to speak on the phone often or at all so letters would be the thing—which has turned out to be true—but then I started overthinking it. How does one address such a letter? How often should I write? What should I write about?
Now, I could have brought these questions and concerns to Husband or Offspring, but that would have exposed my inadequacies and, frankly, my level of crazy. I’m only comfortable showing you my crazy.
So I googled it.
Offspring is gone. Officially, finally, left me forever gone.
I want everyone to know that I’m handling Offspring’s adulthood and life choices with grace and dignity.
Oh, shut up.
You don’t know me.
I don’t mean that like
Getting better, no thanks to the sudden snow dump. And hey, I learned something new: coughing causes your heart to pump, so if you get your BP taken while you’re having a coughing fit, the machine declares you in danger of stroke because you’ll read a perilous 183/102.