Super glad I work from home today. I am so fucking tired. I got a normal amount of sleep last night, but then I slept for another 2 hours. And I would like to just go back to bed.

I don't actually have much work to do today, but I have Christmas stuff to do that has a deadline (making photo calendars for Tim's family), so I'm pulling up my socks.

By the way, the Buffistas are now rock stars in my mom's eyes because of our concern that Mr. Peabody finds a good home.

I'm at work, but I'm a seething ball of anger, and I hope no one comes to talk to me.

On the upside, I am wearing awesome new boots that I got on sale over the weekend.

I am doing nothing at work and doing it quite well. I would that I weren't, there's lots to get done, but my brain and body are moving through molasses, processing. I'm tempted to close my cube door, but the damn cube has windows in it. Yeah, right, my view of more cubes with more windows. All I see are heads.

Thanks to a bunch of people sending me things in emails, I have already accomplished a lot today, which makes me wonder if I can go home at lunch. I bet if my boss sees me cry she might even suggest it.

I knew it was coming, and it still hit me like a fist to the gut.

There was a mention in one of the threads that Mr. Peabody might need a behaviorist, correct? UGA also has a behaviorist section. We found them helpful when Joey was having trouble adjusting to life outside a cage.

So sad. It's hard to believe.

This is too hard. Godspeed, Ginger.

Luckily all I had to do at work today was push paper, because I can't concentrate. I'm knocking off early. I haven't heard anything else from anyone about memorial services or anything, but I didn't expect to yet. Everyone's just in shock and there's so many things to be done at the worst possible time to have to do them.

So many significant decisions have to be made when you're unable to cope. One slight mercy is that it wasn't over a weekend, or worse, a holiday weekend.