Static - inactive: not in physical motion

I'm sitting at my desk for the first time in over a month. After flittering around the state for two weeks it's nice to sit at my desk and complete mundane tasks. Catch up on silly work gossip. Looking at Gecko's.

I did get to spend the night in my own bed a few nights my last week of training. One night, Nick and I decided to spend our evening doing, 'booze, food, and netflix'. Toward the end of the night I picked up my phone which had been on silent all night. Upon opening it I received a text from my dad essentially telling me my grandma had a stroke and was going to die very soon. The highlight being '...thought you'd want to know. Dad. (SAY A PRAYER)' Sometimes I want to give up on technology. The sheer ease with which some information is sent and received astonishes me. My brain turned to static for a bit and I made the mistake of calling him which only served to upset me further.

I then called my mom who, after some time, was able to calm me down. Funnily enough, I was heading down to her neck of the woods the next day to perform at a nearby school. Knowing a hug from your mother is only a mere hour away is an unexplainable comfort.

Once in Chillicothe I was driving around the downtown area and noticed the old comic shop there has closed. Boo. In its place is now a store which serves no purpose to the former tenants patrons. A mountain bike store. Replacing what was once the swinging sign that hung about fifteen feet in the air is now a bike. Obviously serving the purpose of a more three dimensional type. This bike sign seems to be hanging mystically from the pipes on the side of the brick building. I squint as I push my glasses up my nose trying to discern what is holding it up.
Fishing wire.
I can't wait for the article to come from that days paper.
"Pedestrian crushed by falling bike"

It was also this evening in Chillicothe I started to feel the tickle in my throat that led to my sickness. I began to mainline Constant Comment Tea in hopes of deferring it till the weekend.

After returning home I was awoken Saturday morning by a phone call from my dad. Sometime during the night my voice decided to run off and take a break elsewhere so I did not answer. I already knew what he was going to say. My grandma was cool. She lived in a pink house, taught me how to cook eggs and love vegetables. She was also 95, it was time.

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