It started yesterday after I said something dumb at a funeral to the bereaved husband.
It's the sort of lame-brained thing that well meaning but misguided people said to me after my Dad died. It took me years to forgive some of them. I only hope that X is more forgiving or forgetful than I was.
It would have been better if I had just kept my mouth shut.
This morning I sent him a note to apologize and hopefully offer more appropriate words of sympathy.
I thought sending the note would help me get over it and move on. Unfortunately I've now moved on to being depressed about other stuff (& I haven't gotten over it yet.)
Maybe it's partly hormones... but at the moment what I really want is to eat chocolate and watch Pride and Prejudice (the one w/Colin Firth as Darcy)
I know there are more useful things I could be doing-- email a friend, take a shower, write something profoundly spiritual on my blog... But to be honest if I had a functional dvd player I would already be watching P&P instead of writing this.
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