Dear diary,
After three hours of crying, I’ve completed my eulogy to Mom. It’s three pages, Sized 14 fonts, Arial style font. But I was typing up Dad’s eulogy first and then mine. I’m trying to cry as much as possible; so when it comes time to gag on my spit on both days, the words won’t be too stuck in my throat.
Welp, it’s 21080819-1851 and I’m still editing both eulogy for Dad and me. We are NOT public speakers. We pretty much have been keeping to ourselves, isolated in the house, and avoiding humanz and their gossiping for most our live. Call us selfish, but it’s easier than being active members of society.
Today, my Dad and I attended my regular 10:45 Sunday choir mass. I was getting rusty and felt the strain in my vocal cords. So I had to recollect what Herr Maestro told me: Relax and say Ahh. I understand what he meant. That technique allowed my diaphragm to drop and I was able to hold the notes longer and clearer. Duh.
I may have to go back to SJSC and dedicate myself to driving Miss Daisy, err, carpooling with the old timer. It’s all I could do after she was willing to invite me and help out with the funeral mass.
But Mom did NOT like me to stay for three freaking hours every Monday evening. I do NOT know why. I guess she does NOT want me to stay out at night. That’s funny because I used to take evening classes at local community colleges and at SJSU. And no one bothered me. Maybe it’s because I’m scary looking. Bah!
Yeah, so it’s time for dinner and Dad hasn’t come downstairs yet. I wanted to go to sleep but this was a good time to write the eulogy and edit the stuff before tomorrow’s appointment with our local SSA. It’s lots of leg work.
I’m so through being alive and living. Is my next assignment gonna be fun or not? Ugh!
Sincerely,
Flynn B full of ginger flavored black tea from Stash.com.
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