the 47th week

Ams and her Long Island at Rooster's

Monday. A rough day. I threw out my back, and Amos was kind and covered the second half of my shift. After The Anchor I went to the Loth House for a bit, and Ams and I got Penn Station for dinner.

Tuesday. Miranda and I opened, and I went to The Anchor after work and then hung out with Amos for a while before enjoying some Hoos-delivered Adriatico’s pizza. I was sad all day; I didn’t go to The Anchor because I wanted to but because it was ritual. I spent most of my time staring numbly at the lighthouse mural. Even eating takes too much work; over the last three days I’ve eaten only about 1500 calories altogether.

Wednesday. I went to The Anchor when I woke up, tried to listen to a lecture on American Independence but just couldn’t find the motivation; I sat there wasting time with nothing but my thoughts and pen. My shift with W.O.J. was cancelled, so I went to Ams’ and we watched TV and ordered La’Rosa’s. “I really wish our lives weren’t so shitty,” she quipped; “I hate how we’re always synced in hating life.” It helps us bear one another’s burdens, at the least.

Thursday. I woke stunned with sadness. I pass out in the hope of forgetting about her only to dream about her and wake up sadder than when I went to bed. The dreams sap all my energy, and I woke dreading the day: a long shift with W.O.J. (enjoyable, but still with the ever-present shadow clouding everything). The shift requires lots of energy on my own part, and I feel like I barely have enough energy to function myself. I wanted to try out U.C.C.’s Thursday night Young Adult group, and I made it as far as the café, and I just couldn’t do it. I just didn’t have the energy: I was drained, and forcing myself into a crowd thick with people I don’t know and having to be social and put on a friendly face while really feeling nothing but miserable would only drain me all the more. So I drove home and was in bed by 9:00 (8:00 Wisconsin time; I hate how I still do that).

Friday. All week long at Tazza Mia, customers and co-workers have been asking, “What’s wrong?” The sadness, it’s engraved on my face and reflected darkly in my eyes. I blame it on my back (which is mostly better but still a bit achy). Usually my façade is air-tight, but the grief is too strong this time, and pretending to the world that everything is okay while the opposite happens to be the case just takes too much effort I simply don’t have. I met up with Ams at her place, and we hung out with Lane for a while and she cut my hair. Dinner with my dad’s side of the family in New Carlisle went well, and Ams and I drove back to Cincinnati and then hung out in her room with Lane for a couple hours.

Saturday. Jennifer and I met up at Tazza Mia to catch up and drink coffee, and we grabbed beers at Rock Bottom and walked around Fountain Square. Later in the afternoon I went to the Apple Festival Washington Park with one of my guys. They had a petting zoo with a 15-pound rabbit and a tortoise wearing a dinosaur-themed canvas over its shell. I was exhausted when I got home and passed out for a bit, then woke up feeling sick with hunger. Four cups of coffee and a beer do not a satisfactory meal make. Andy swung by since he was in the area, and we went to Habit’s Café in Oakley and sat at the bar. I had a chicken quesadilla and he had their fish & chips, and he ordered a beer and I had a diet coke. We talked about zombies, literature, “prehistory,” and the sacred art of journaling.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor before meeting up with Ams for church at U.C.C. Anthony preached on “spiritual gifts” from Ephesians 4 (part of their Ephesians series; I love how they employ “exegetical” sermons). I went downtown for a “meeting” with Tibbles at Tazza Mia, and then I scrambled north to make in time for Indian buffet in Oakley with Andy, Ams, and Mandy. I spent my evening hanging out with Ams: dinner and drinks at Rooster’s (I got a quesadilla and potato skins!) and Monsters University.