Let’s see if I’ve got this straight. I don’t have a mother. My only friends are a cat and you, dear Diary. I’m being stalked by a smell collector. I’ve been taken advantage of by a jerk. I will probably lose my job. And all I have of mom is her sweater. I can barely smell her on it. It’s my only comfort tonight.
If I had faced facts about her dying, I might have saved more of her things. All that wasted time while she was still living; I feel like such a nunu. I just couldn’t bear to see her that way.
I need to go to the library tomorrow. When I think of her, it’s usually at the librarian’s desk wearing her green cardigan and reading glasses. And if Jim Bronson so much as looks at me, I will call the police.
I need you now, Mom. 😦
On the upside, dear Diary, Toonces showed a new side of himself tonight. He’s not only a good listener, he’s a fearsome guard cat.