day 3: Priorities
The room is dead silent. Dead, generally. The bodies that fill it are patiently scrolling their Facebook feeds, checking emails, avoiding eye-contact.
You can almost smell the anger, the hurt, the brokenheartedness rising off of us. We are the divorcees. Parked in our state mandated classroom, prepared to absorb three hours of emotional powerpoint desperation.
Where did we all go wrong? Or right? Or wait, no, it's neither of those. It just is. This is where we are, or rather, where we have to be for a bit in order to be where we are going next. For better or for worse.
But wouldn't it be easier if we were actually here when we were supposed to be here? Maybe we'd find something, or hear something, or experience a break down in public and cry it out thing. Or at least notice if there happened to be an orange comet blazing across the sky.
I guess I'll just lead by example.