Angry - August
Forced to stay in bed all weekend resting my strained back and icing my knee, I have thrown myself into getting my Avon letters done. I'm not finished yet, but I will be be tomorrow. I expanded my solicitation list by 44 by shamelessly taking names from the sympathy book that people signed at Clint's reception, (I hate the term visitation). so it's taking longer than usual. I feel as though I can sleep, and I haven't shed a single tear all day. I'm going to turn off the lights and wrap myself in Clint's sweater and try to dream about him. Ann Carol says I can train myself to dream about him and if I wake from a dream about him and write down just one word about it, I will be able to remember the dream. Sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but she has never led me wrong, so I'm going to try. I used to remember many dreams in great detail, but I think this Elavil is getting in the way. I hate all this medicine. And, no, I'm not going to start treating myself. I not that crazy.