From my Facebook, this morning:
The desperate need to keep busy and the ability to keep busy are two entirely different things. The latter does not follow from the former, and will has nothing to do with it. If I let myself stop and think, if I pause to take a breath, the blackness and the anger and the fear instantly drown me.
But we did make it out to Leeds, to the Bass Pro Shops, and I got three flannel shirts and a new knit cap, because the shirts were on sale and I need clothes. I will never cease to feel guilty for spending money on clothes. Don't even ask. We came back home down Rex Lake Road and Grant's Mill Road, across the Cahaba, back into Irondale and Birmingham. That was the best of the day, the drive home through the green.
Tonight, we saw Dan Bush's The Vault (2017), which starts out as a stylish heist film with a strong cast, then, about thirty minutes in, becomes a muddled, silly ghost/slasher fiasco, with a strong cast trapped inside. It could have been excellent.