I took TheDog for a walk tonight. To take advantage of the earlier-than-usual daylight savings time. To try to make up for neglecting her over the past two months.
Our relaxing walk gave me perhaps too much time to think. The first time in a long time when there wasn't a cell phone interrupting my thoughts. Or some work issue I had to work out.
Enough thinking time that the thing that's been lurking in the depths started to surface. I know things aren't great. But I don't know why.
There's a lack of compassion for what I'm going through with my grandma. There's a constant feeling of guilt being laid upon me because of long work hours. And there's not really anyone I can talk to about it.
Everyone thinks he's great. My parents, brothers, sister, friends, even my boss. And he is. But I'm not sure we're great. And I'm not sure how to figure it out or what to do about it. Or if I should.