21 DAYS OF...

DAY 19

This is my day of infamy...a doubly whammy anniversary that usually leaves me in bed for 20 hours.

This happened.

And then this happened.

If I had my druthers (a NaNa word), the day would be cancelled.  From the books.  Forever. October would only have 30 days...we'd just skip from the 16th to the 18th with nary a word.

But...since that ain't possible and I have to perform tonight, I am rousting myself  and leaving this blasted oh-so-comforting apartment with the bed that wails the siren's call of "come to me, bend to me." Before 1 pm.  From whence I go to PT, to a movie, to dinner, to fight call, to the show.

I hate this day. So i'm filling it with goodness and utility.

Bite me, whammiversary.  

Why is the measure of love loss?