Susan is well aware she lied in her last post when she said she'd see you tomorrow. Not only did she not see you tomorrow, she abandoned her voluntary commitment to write a BLAHg post every day then she took the month off.

During this time period Susan got different health insurance, celebrated Thanksgiving with all her cousins, watched a bunch of episodes of Cops, fell in love with a red vintage ice bucket, cleaned her house for a party, spent money on car repairs and plane tickets, observed a fella with a sack lunch walking along the side of the road accompanied by a swan, and decorated for Christmas by plugging in her Little Light Up Santa.

As if all that weren't enough, she commemorated her beloved Cousin Lisa's second birthday without her, followed the next day by the husband's second anniversary in Heaven, or wherever he actually is.

Susan caught herself referring to something that occurred around the time the husband died as having happened last year. That sh*t was two years ago, not one. Two years.

Yesterday Susan saw someone with her husband's hair; thick, blinding white, combed straight back covering a square head. She always thought the husband's head was shaped like a Rock-Em Sock-Em robot. This dude didn't look like the husband, only his hair did, and she watched him until he disappeared from her view. She lapped up that few seconds of a long gone familiarity like a dog lapping water from a pothole.

A few days earlier the song that played over Susan's clock radio came on (click HERE for a reminder) and she immediately started crying. Her brain recognized that song in like two notes and the response was involuntary.

Psychic pain travels faster than physical pain as evidenced by the the immediacy of Susan's grief versus the time it takes for her to start punching holes in walls after she slices a finger fighting with a can of black beans.

Ed note: There were no quality controls for this research.

Anyway, that's what Susan's been up to.