February 2nd, 2006
I'm starting to get used to not having Hal around anymore. I'm all settled in to his... well, my house, now. The decor is a little weird. Hal was a herpetologist before he got sick, so there are snakes everywhere. I can't bring myself to redecorate yet, though. Staring at his research, his pictures, sitting in his car (and oh my god, it's a beautiful car), it feels like I'm still able to talk to him sometimes.
I feel a bit at a loss for what I'm supposed to do now. Keep calm and carry on? I've got this big lump in my throat and I worry that I'm going to take it out on my patients. I know that not everyone is going to live, that's just how life is. But now it's like I'm afraid to get too close to any of them, because when they go it will be just like getting the wind knocked out of me again.
I can't help it, though. I like helping people too much, even if that means just easing the pain until they move on to the next... thing.
The bird, in all his infinite wisdom, is telling me to take this time to sort out my own head. "First and fucking foremost," he said in his most eloquent way, "stop bringing idiots home." In short, he has promised that until I bring someone home with "a real fucking brain," that I will never have a social life. He has yet to clarify what constitutes a real brain. But maybe he - whom I've taken to calling Nevermore - has a point. I've got some things to work out before anyone else hops on this crazy train.
Mom would know what to do.
I've begun publishing unfinished entries as a way of allowing readers to preview the entries which are yet to come. Also, the dates don't mean anything as far as actual in-game chronology goes.
