But fuck man, I want to.
The death just hit me. Hard.
So while my parents are sitting shivah at home, getting visitors from all over the building, why aren't I with them?
Because I'm at work, getting slammed left and right because I'm the only fucking person here. I'm covering one person who is out for a month, the big boss is out all this week, and the project that I had to delay due to the funeral is now due Monday, has completely changed.
I'll be working all damn weekend long, on my laptop in Brooklyn as we sit shivah.
I want friends. I want hugs. I want a fucking shoulder to cry on. I want physical touch.
And it just isn't going to happen.