I feel just awful. Because there's this whole Camp thing, and I'm giving Sean a ride tomorrow and I want to see him and he wants to see me (and other people) because he's about to leave to join the military.
Then there's this family thing, being that Gran Fan died and I am so sad about it and I'm sure everyone who actually knew her well is far, far more sad about it, and everyone except me will be together at the funeral on Saturday, and I so want to be there and be with them and be there for them.

Because driving Sean was a prior commitment and important and because I originally thought the funeral would be next weekend when I'll be at Ian's baptism, and definitely couldn't go, I had until tonight pretty successfully driven the whole thing from my mind. I would be driving Sean and going to Camp, and that would be that. Then tonight my dad realized that New York is next weekend, and not this one, and immediately jumped on my case about how I was skipping the funeral to drive somebody I hardly ever see, and I just flipped out. I yelled at him in the car, and I went into the basement and sobbed for about twenty minutes. The thing with the movie today, and then this on top of it--the two together were just more than I can take. So I sent an "I feel completely horrible and don't know what to do" text message to my cousin Lewis, and now I have pretty much gone back to not dealing with it for the moment.

These last couple of entries make me sound like a constant ball of misery probably, and that isn't really true. I'm only a ball of misery sometimes. Other times I've actually been enjoying things a fair amount. Warm weather does that, and also I had six or seven hours of good sleep the other night, and it was one hundred percent magical. Now if I could only learn to do that on command, I would be in business.

I love the warm days. I love the look of the bright pollen. I love the rain outside. I don't love being heartbroken, and I don't love being torn in two.