spaghetti

i woke up this morning feeling wretched. suppressed grief about nic had mixed in my dreaming head with worries about poor quality of work on a building site. i struggled for more than half the day.

you can't know in advance how a bereavement will affect you. they're all as unique as the neural tangle they uproot. it's like opening a data cabinet and tearing out a random fistful of wires. there's no predicting where the spaghetti will end or what connections will be disrupted.