It rained, heavily, all night, before the funeral.
The pounding of the drops caused me to sleep fitfully. Nightmares came and went, fleeting images I couldn't remember making me toss and turn. I think I dreamed about drowning, but it was gone before I could remember it.
I felt restless, unsettled, a slow ache began to bloom in my chest, and I could feel my stomach tightening into knots as the anxiety crept in.
By morning, I was exhausted, jumpy and sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw my cellphone out the window as the alarm reminded me I had places to be. I groaned and debated whether I had time to snooze it for a few more minutes. I hit snooze anyway, but my anxiety wouldn't let me sleep.
I groaned my way out of bed after I realized it was a useless attempt, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. I opened one cabinet door after another and scanned the contents, but nothing was appealing. I went to the fridge, looked through it, then went back to the cabinets.
"Screw breakfast." I said as I realized I was circling the kitchen again, and slammed the cabinet door I had open, unintentionally using too much force. The door banged like a firecracker and as I jumped, my right eyelid started its mad dance with a flurry of twitching.
"Damn!" I said as I pressed my fingers to my eye, in an effort to hold the lid still until the spasms subsided.
Today was NOT going to be a good day.
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