Boring Brown Socks

The following was written to a blogger buddy on 3/9/05 when the grief was still too acute to write about in a public venue:
------------------------------------------------------------

I'm wearing really boring brown socks today because I dressed up to go to a meeting. But the socks are now tear-stained so I can't go to the meeting afterall. I thought I could just go on as normal until my grandmother's memorial this Saturday and thus the boring socks. But all the crying I did last night and this morning did not satiate my soul. In the midst of the first of the two meetings I was going to go to today, I burst into tears and ran out of the room. It was incredibly embarassing. I wonder how I'll face them all again. I suppose by once again trying to act as if nothing is wrong. I suppose that is what I do. Though this is the first time I've seen that side of myself this vividly.

The lights in this room go on by motion detectors. They came on when I walked into this empty computer lab, but they have since turned themselves off again. I was planning on going to the water for solace. But there is a nice peace in this dark, empty room right now, too.