The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Work is throwing a goodbye party for me on January 19. Coincidentally, it is also Jenny's birthday. I won't take the day off. The current plan is to go to the Playgarden and have a picnic at the mosaic made in Jenny's honor by a local artist. A weird fucking local artist who decided it would be appropriate to say a few words at Jenny's Celebration of Life, despite not knowing her nor ever meeting her. That was weird, but not as weird as the person who stood up and claimed to be Jenny's best friend. Jenny's actual best friends--she had two-- were present and accounted for, so wtf? People are strange.

Not sure how I feel about doing this work send-off on her birthday, but there is no way around it. My intent is to have a drink and then Uber home. I don't like driving with just one drink on board, just don't do it.

Having given notice, I am so jammed up at work, I was at the office e from 8 until 6, came home and made turkey drumsticks for dinner, took down the tree, vacuumed up the pine needles, and did more work. It's now 11, and I am circling the wagons. I have a to do list longer then my arm, that doesn't seem that long but the font I'm using on my list is 6 pt., sooooo. . .

Abby is submitting her application for Brown tonight. Last night was Barnard, before that Columbia, before that Smith. I am sure there are others. The submissions go on well into January. We shall see. Always independent, I have had no hand in this, and am grateful for Heidi, Jenny's cousin who helps rich kids get into college for a living, has been helping Abby with her applications and strategy since Jenny passed.

I reached out to Abby's therapist today to express concern that she had never mentioned her mother and doesn't respond to queries or commentary about her at all. It causes me stress. Knowing the therapist can say nothing, I I just wanted her to know. 

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