"Make me a schedule," M. said. " I want something to do every hour." Heartbreak makes some people want to burrow into bed, I suppose--but not her. My broken heart wouldn't let me sleep either. I paced. Walked the dogs. Had middle-of-the-night Google extravaganzas. Grabbed onto the Blogospere as if it was a life raft. It helped a lot that I started grad school less than five months later, though I suppose grad school might have been more productive if I hadn't been in needy "overshare" mode.
So M. will be busy. The weeks that she works full days will be easier. Of course the brokeness will just do its broken thing from time to time. That's okay. It will fit itself into the schedule when it needs to.
And then one day, it won't.
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