My neighbor Richard said that about 4 nights ago, 10:30 p.m. (the night I was gone to S.F. otherwise I definitely would have heard it), a pack of coyotes was howling loudly and it sounded like it was out on our cul-de-sac in front of my house. The one night I'm frickin' gone. That really gets under my skin.
I've gone back in my mind and thought and I just can't remember seeing Hux greet me at the door when I got back from S.F. that night, around 10:30 or so. I know I shouldn't beat myself up but I really, really wish I had of driven home after dinner while it was still light instead of going for a twilight tour of Pacific Heights. If only...
My mom told me to accept the loss and try to move on and I started sobbing. Then she suggested would I like another kitten? She said she would fly up here and go shopping for one with me. She realized how upset I am and said I could talk all I needed. It's hard for anyone to listen to me, I know. I can't help it. I can't stop thinking about it.
On the bright side, this muggle received her Harry Potter book via owl today. I wish I could just read it instead of this stupid, painfully boring Easter Island novel assigned by my class. Easter Island makes me want to burn books.