The Newsletter Thingy
The Sybarite Newsletter: Pause
I’m gonna need a minute.
My dad died.
Someday I’ll write about it, the absurdity of death in our modern world, with tubes and drips and machines that we can turn on and off at will, as if we have all morphed into video game characters. Someday I’ll write about how nurses are the best people on earth, which I knew intellectually but not actually until I experienced their empathy and ability to not interrupt someone when they are talking, even if that someone is wild-eyed and hysterical.
Someday I’ll write about the friends who morbidly kept texting through the whole ordeal with requests for updates, even though I told them Dad was on a dilaudid + ativan drip with lorazepam thrown in once in a while, and what the fuck kind of update did they want? He was dying. That’s the fucking update, and yet they kept texting each hour as if they were in some sort of office pool wagering on the exact moment of death. People are gross. On the other hand, someday I’ll write about the other friends who simply texted “Checking in with you. No need to respond.”
Anyway, I’m not going to be reading submissions or publishing for a bit. I’m not going to be nominating anything for boosting. I probably won’t be writing. I don’t really know what’s going to happen, but I know I am on pause.
AD,
Sybarite-in-Chief
