I am writing this from, of all places, seminary. I drove over last night for a meeting; today I need to pay my six month old bookstore bill and try to see a few people.
The meeting was fine; I was fine; I was a participant; I made some great connections in the local community of spiritual directors. (Sorry, Stratoz.) If you've been reading, you know that as little as a week ago, none of that would have been possible.
Fine is a relative term, I suppose. The whole place seems surreal to me. How odd to walk around with a body, mind, and heart that have been completely shattered in a context that remains unchanged.
I still have no idea whether I can return to classes for the second quarter, which begins after Thanksgiving. Minute by minute, I guess, and eventually the minutes pile up into a day, and then another one, and another one.