Waking up thirsty

Lately I’ve been waking up thirsty, can’t wait for my morning tea.
I’m practically re-boiling the kettle as soon as I’ve drunk the first one.
Lifeless too.
No matter how much sleep you’ve had, it never feels like its enough.
Ealy bed, early up, later bed, later up.
There just doesn’t seem to be a winning combination.
What a super day, we should go out after dinner.
I guess we shouldn’t count our chickens.
I wish she’d… oh never mind.
I’ll never happen anyway.
Why do I keep playing out that conversation in my head?
Arrgghh!
Why do we do that?
Why are we predisposed to beating ourselves up?
I always thought somewhere we’d sensed that we hadn’t performed well, could do better.
Now I’m not sure.

Today I discovered one of my oldest friends had died.
Despite years of doing this job,
telling people their loved ones have passed away,
it always hits me hard.
You sit for a while pondering what to say,
but what can you say?
What words can I use that’ll lessen the shock?
I might as well slam a baseball bat into their stomach,
it’ll feel no different.
Watching them crumple up tells you how they’ll handle it long term.
Some don’t show their feelings.
They look away, nod, thank you for telling them.
They’re the worst.
You know inside they’ll burst.
If they bottle it up, refuse to acknowledge it – one day it’ll catch up with them.
Bang.
Revenge?
Blame?
Most often there’s no one to blame, no revenge to be taken.
Sometimes they vent their frustration at us.
I used to let them rage at me, now I won’t tolerate it.
If a crime had been committed, which led to the death
never promise to catch the villain who did it.
Big mistake, huge.
They’ll cling onto that promise like barnacles on a ship.
Unless you deliver them justice, they’ll keep snapping at your heels.