Current word count: 11,295 Goal for the day: 15,000.

I woke up with the intent to WRITE. All-caps because I was going to get another five or six thousand words out of my brain and onto the screen. But not today, apparently. I'm looking at crochet tutorials and thinking about baking bread. This is what I get for worshipping Hestia.

I just watched Good Luck, Have Fun, Don't Die. What in the fuck? But awesomely.

I found out earlier this week that I have ninety days to figure out my whole job situation, but the woman I spoke with said that self-employment counts. So... Guess who is going to finally start her own publishing company? I've only wanted to do this since I was eleven years old. No big deal or anything. If anyone out there feels bad for not accomplishing what they think they should be doing, just tell yourself that at least you're not a slacker dinosaur like me, taking decades to achieve my goals. Also, I feel like crap that I didn't do this while my husband was alive. But baby steps, I guess. Now, who wants to be a published author?

Today, I am officially setting up my departed husband's epitaph. Every line can only be fourteen characters, and a space is a character. So 'the wheel weaves' is too long. (I was going to make it clear that I want 'as the wheel wills' on my own marker, beside his.) I cried yesterday at how frustrating that is. My husband's entire life, everything he was, encapsulated in such a tiny phrase. I'm going with 'not forgotten' because it's the tiniest way I can say so much. It's a reference to a lot of things he loved in pop culture, our entire relationship, and just life and death in general. It still doesn't feel right, but I guess I wouldn't have wanted his whole life to be relegated to a book quote, anyway.

I feel so fucking alone.

Every trash bag full of things we throw away is just us getting closer to not living here anymore. But I don't know where we're going or how we're going to afford living there. The bank called me today to talk about my account, since it's just mine now. Only, not officially, because I was supposed to fill out some document they didn't give me. It's too hot to make the three-mile round trip walk today, and they're closed tomorrow and Saturday. So I can't do anything until Monday. They said that's all right, and they're sorry for my loss. I hate thanking people for that. I know it's customary, but... 'I appreciate you acknowledging that my husband stopped breathing because he had multiple forms of cancer' is utter bullshit. I am not appreciative. I want him back. Fuck this nonsense.

I'm on hold and stuck listening to the saddest hold music ever. We should get to listen to more popular classical music when we're stuck on hold. Put some Scott Joplin in there, or Beethoven. My estimated wait time is less than twenty minutes. Whee.