I stood in 4 inch pumps for 10 hours as my dead uncle lay in a casket behind me. I couldn't stop wondering about things like if he was wearing pants. I was inspired a million times over by different women I met in the room. I felt like a child standing in the room. I felt lost and helpless. I awkwardly put my arms around my mum and I couldn't help but wonder when I will have to go through this with my own mother and my own father. Will I be strong enough?
I thought to myself, what a wonderful party. Why the hell is Bob dead for such a party?
This should happen before death, before Starwars.
I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. I can hear my cousin Susan walking around her house, she was trying to write something for the service. I hope she's OK. As OK as you can be when your dad dies on Christmas eve from a freak accident.
I should go to bed, I don't think this is making sense.