autopilot

Because when you think that you can’t take anymore, that your body might implode because this! 2008! it can’t get any crappier four months in, what with your father dying and all the other left of happy that has chosen to dump itself in your lap, you find out that it can indeed get worse. Like finding that where your cat’s leg used to be, there’s a new lump under the skin instead, something the vets warned you might again rear its ugly head. And then you realize you can take more that you thought, and that you don’t go into cardiac arrest when it happens. You simply just keep going through the fucking motions.