Today would have been my father's 71st birthday.
It's also the 30th anniversary of my mother's death.
I was mostly fine today—a little out of it, a little glum, a little low-energy, but I chalked that up to still being sick and short on sleep.
But I'm kinda sad this evening. Though having dinner helped.
Kam's coming over at some point, and maybe we'll watch a movie or something, and I have some editing to do. And I ought to try to get some sleep again.
(Pattern lately: go to bed earlyish, spend a couple hours coughing and unable to sleep, NyQuil or other OTC meds finally kick in, sleep for four hours or so, wake up, lie around in a daze until I manage to get out of bed.)
. . . . Was going to try to make this a more substantial entry, but nope, no brain left.