  A release of sobs before bed allowed me to sleep more soundly, more efficiently, than Ive been able to in recent memory.
Sort of a restart. The wind outside seems to confirm it; theres a changed tone in the air, in my environment. Im going back to my condo today. In part, to make sure I still have two cats and that no one starved. And also to get back to the studies that my surgery has made impossible to finish so far. I want so much to get the Virginia Woolf work done with.
Even if I have to reshape my entire final focus. Resubmit essay two?! I found out yesterday and cried over that. I cried thinking I was punishing myself by skipping graduation. I may go after all, just with a friend or maybe enlisting my aunt Paula. I thought of opting out on the lit dept graduation party this Friday in fear that asshole would show up. Cried for thinking I couldnt manage the feelings, the guilt for having spoken to Cassel. And cried in fear that Im too bent on pushing myself to allow my body to heal properly.
Maybe Ive already ruined what the surgery repaired? It was a long night, taking a long time to get to bed. And I awoke to pain in my foot in the bone that runs along the outside. Strange. Then again, its strange not being able to see my foot for 3 more months. Its strange to be living alone without help. Its strange that I wave off peoples attempts to assist me. 
