Wilbur has just arrived at the Zuckerman farm. He misses Fern. None of the other animals in the barn are being particularly friendly to him. Lurvy has just forced "sulphur" and molasses down his throat. His young life has reached a pretty low point.
This evening, I understand Wilbur's state of mind. It was my last day of work at the medical office. All day long, coworkers kept saying how much they were going to miss me. In between, I had family and friends calling me about my brother. Every time someone said "I'm so sorry" on the phone, I'd start crying. I was hoping to be stoic and strong, like a Viking or something. Instead, I was Shirley MacLaine at the end of Terms of Endearment, coming unglued.
As I was walking out of the medical office at the end of the day, I looked back at what has been my desk for the past 14 years. It was like I'd been erased. Depressing. So, to bolster my spirits, I came to my office at the university and boxed up the rest of my belongings for the big move to the new English Department in July. That was a mistake, too. The fact that I can fit 17 or 18 years of my life into five small boxes was pretty depressing, too.
So, I'm crapping out all over the place tonight.
When Saint Marty gets home tonight, he's going to have a very big drink. And he ain't talking about chocolate milk.
|Saint Marty this afternoon|