please get stronger

As I listen to the 6th World Series game (KC is winning):

I keep crying in the car on the way to work to Sam Smith's cd as whichever song makes me think of Nana and pray for her. If he and Adele ever do a duet, I will be ruined.

Work is busy and somehow more chaotic. I know it's just because of the due date, but I miss having my department chief around. He's relaxing.

It's hard for me to get out of bed in the morning because it's so dark. I used to have the willpower to get up though.

The fact that I can't hide the expressions on my face was revealed to me again. My face must have registered disappointment when learned of my semi-pitiful raise. I said something like "at least it's something."

I am or am not going to Puerto Rico for my friend's 30th. She's flip-flopping, but I think it's on again. I'm going for it. She's hilarious.

I don't deal well with self-pity in myself or in others. If you're going to feel sorry for yourself, which I do sometimes, deal with it yourself or talk about it and what you're going to do about it. I have a hard time with general self-pity which is expressed to me and then a shooting down of everything I say. If you want comfort, say it. If you want a kick in the ass, say it. If you don't know what you want, Imma leave you alone for some self-reflection.

I got 5 new books from the thrift store. Their books were not organized as well as last time, but I needed a set of 5 to get the deal. It took a while, but I did it.  I made a list of all the things I like, which I got myself or was given this birthday month:
party
new books
flowers
dark chocolate with sea salt
pretty clothes
green tea ice cream
diamond candle
day off from work
warm sunny weather
Thai tea bubble tea

I can't think of any other material thing I want for my birthday month. What I really miss is the story Nana told me every year on my birthday, the story of the first time she saw me in the hospital and of me supposedly feeding the ducks but actually eating their food. She's never going to tell me that story again with the same warmth and light in her eyes. When was the last time I saw her before her stroke? I can't remember a specific day. I only regret that I didn't visit more. Bobbi taught me to always visit, always stay with the person, not to take it on faith that they won't die because you're not there. As if anything that major changes whether you're there or not. Please get stronger, Nana.