I wake to a blood stained pillowcase. I pull it off the pillow and throw it in the hamper. I know I should soak it first but…I don’t care. I go to the kitchen sink to wash my hands and blood droplets fall from my nose and into the sink.

My heart aches. My knee throbs. My aches and pains mount. All of this is the banal despair of a single middle-aged man. I smile at the drama and the bad poetry of my incessantly bloody nose.

I drive to the super market and see lines of people down the block and through the parking lot. Thanksgiving shoppers. I decide that I cannot handle the stress of this, drive back home and place an online order for my father’s groceries to be delivered to him. I will make do with the frozen patties in my freezer.

What can I count on today? The morning sun comes in through my bedroom window. I can sit, let the golden sunbeams warm my feet, watch the cars pass and spy on the people at the cafe as they happily sip their morning coffee. What would they think if they knew that a person was sitting on the carpet of his bedroom floor watching them enjoy their morning?

What can I count on today? The football game starts at 10am. I can convince myself that it matters whether my team wins or loses. I can tell myself that meaningless things like this are important.

What can I count on today? Perhaps after the game I can put some pillows on the couch and try to get into my new book. Lose myself in another world.

What can I count on today? I can vacuum. I can watch the neat little lines the vacuum makes in the carpet and watch the dust and dirt accumulate in the clear plastic container.

Blood once again begins to leak from my nose as I write this. It is odd that my nose continues to bleed. I am no stranger to bloody noses but this one won’t stop. Interestingly, I feel no concern for myself. I feel…worried that I might stain something that I cannot afford to replace. Is that the extent of my worry? I check-in….yes, it really is.

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