Yesterday, I woke up in a terrible mood. I shuffled around the kitchen making the coffee, grumpily called for Sweets to help make our lunches and got dressed silently. I came back into the kitchen and announced I felt dejected. Dejected is actually quite a heavy feeling. I knew why I felt dejected. The reason is indeed heavy. I just didn't want to look it in the eye yesterday morning. You see, my Grams, my beloved little Muchkin of a grandmother is ill. The kind of ill that doesn't get better. It seems like it was the day before yesterday that a doctor told us we should take her home with us to begin hospice care. That she had two weeks left. Yesterday marked two weeks. I can't bear it. Every day she is weaker and quieter, eating less and less. One day soon she will be gone. That's a hard thing to grapple with. I have tried to be the strong one while the rest of my family takes turns to cry. My head needs to be screwed on straight at the newspaper. I made a pretty big error last week. My boss was not impressed with me. Over the weekend, we were in the grocery store and Sweets stopped me saying I looked lost. Did I need a nap? The past few days I feel like I'm reeling out like a fishing line. I do feel lost. I'd better start sprinkling some bread crumbs behind me, so I can find my way back out of this dark forest I've entered.