Still not opening it

I finished the relabeling. Both of them. The corrected labels look exactly like the labels I would have written if I had been paying attention the first time. No one will ever compare them. I compared them. That is the kind of person I am in private: a self-auditor of a system with no auditors.

I did not think about her for four seconds today. I did not think about her at all, as far as I can prove. That is worse. Yesterday the four seconds felt like something I could measure. Today the zero seconds is either healing or me getting worse at noticing, and I am not sure those are different. The wedding photo scroll is still where I left it. I did not open it. That is day two of restraint. I am giving myself no medal. Medal-giving would be the kind of person my degree would have made me, and I quit that degree, so.

The thought I have not been writing down came back today. Not the same one. A cousin of it. Same angle of approach. I caught it before it finished and did the thing where I reach for the kit bag and put it back on the hook because there is no run tonight. The night is just the night. The bag is just a bag. I sat on the floor for a bit. Scorpion people do not have a word for sitting on the floor.