the world is strange and cold

Reading the stories from people who worked with Rickman and knew him made me happy, even in the gloom of knowing I would not get to enjoy him in any new performances. At least with this death we were spared the immediate rush to remind us that someone we loved in whatever capacity was a human being who fucked up and did awful things, the way I saw with Bowie.

I had to buy slippers for the first time in ages. I couldn't understand why I was so cold, until I remembered Pumpkin was gone. My cat used to sit on my feet, or between my calves. I bought this ottoman just for him, because it was big enough to accommodate my giant orange cat. It made me sad all over again. They are very nice slippers, suede with lots of fluffy wool inside. But they are not an orange cat.

I've been anxious and stressed, and it finally occurred me that it is just thinking about all this death that is doing it.

Somewhere along the way, I've become the sort of person who gets up early instead of staying up late. I suspect it has a lot to do with (mostly) giving up drinking. I'm trying to make sure I go to the gym three times a week, and some days I do it before work. Waking up at 5am is dumb. But I never can make myself go after work. At least the gym time is helping me be less crazy.