God. I don't feel like writing. I've sat down at this computer many times over the past days with every intention to write, but I just don't feel up to it.

Yet here I sit.

Me mum's gone in to the hospital this morning. I meant to wake up in time to see her off. I did not.

I am the essence of grungle right now. Ode d'grunge. I went to the beach and then, rather than showering, I jumped in the pool when I got home. I like how it feels to have yucky beach and pool hair sometimes. The thrill, however, is now gone. Yet I do not shower. Shawn and I took Basho for his first ever ocean excursion. That is all. I am all wordless or something this morning.

Dan and I watched Requiem for a Dream last night. Good. Brutal. But good.

Ugh. Words hard.

I've been oddly down. Sad. Maybe not so oddly. I feel out of phase, out of place, out of it. What am I doing here is how I feel. Me mum's in the hospital. So I clean and make things nice for her. That's my purpose. To be housefrau. I wish I were elsewhere. And then I don't at all. It's that tug in the middle I get when I'm home. I do not belong here, so hot and humid your skin feels moldy, everyone with their own lives (even (or especially) young Shawn--he's been gone for days it seems, off with his chums) and me. Just hanging about. Where is my home? But then, how can I leave them, my family?

This is such utter crap and nonsense today. I though I was chipper. I've been out this morning walking with the dogs. It's lovely in the very early morning. By now it is unbearable out there. My back is sunburned. I am unable to put a paragraph together. Ugh. Words hard.

Shawn's up. I'm off. Hopefully I will be better at this writing business later. Forgive me.