April 07, 2026

I found a dead body in November.

Been a while since we "talked," huh? Lots of things happened. Not great things, not awful things. It wasn't a bad year, at first. It wasn't the worst year.

I stopped updating here as much late last year, right? The store got a new manager, one who's nearly abusive towards the employees. Does things like berating you loudly in front of the customers, paging people to come to a meeting they didnt need to attend just so they can be chewed out in front of their peers, absolutely no emotional intelligence... let's get into that last part.

I had a coworker, she was another leader of a department and we've been working closely together since 2018. We started working there at the same time, I figure we were good friends despite her being twice my age. I helped her learn and all over the place when she took over her department and she helped me keep my cool, she gave me advice and told me stories and she was a beautiful soul. She called herself "the Guamanian Devil." Her work nickname was "Hagatha." I called her by name, or "Meemaw" when I wanted to tease her. I love her like family.

Her husband passed in their home last February, just before Valentine's Day. She'd bought him a tiny rosebush I set back for her. He loved that plant, he got really into roses just before he passed. They'd been together since they were kids, 13 or 14 years old. They met in this town when her dog went missing, he found her at the gas station looking for him, and he helped her find him. He was in the military later on and they traveled the world, they spent years living in Germany. He was kind and loving, they were the perfect pair. It broke her to lose him, she stopped going home after work and we had to chase her out every evening.

She was spunky. She was a bitch. She was vulgar. Every time a vegatable or fruit looked obscene, she made sure to point it out with the worst wording she could. She took caffiene pills. She smoked what felt like a pack a day but was probably just a few cigarettes made to last through several breaks. She loved sweets. She loved broccoli salad. She was an amazing cook and loved Jamie Oliver, she talked about new recipes constantly.

Her mom survived the war in Guam and married an American soldier who saved her. Her mom had to live in caves, her mom terrified me when I met her. Both of them are the strongest women I've ever met.

Every day she drank at least two, maybe three or more, cups of coffee at work and home. Black coffee, nothing added to it. Several Christmases ago, I gave her a metal coffee mug with a handle and lid so she could carry it with her in the store and keep it hot all day. She used that thing so much the stainless steel inside turned brown, the plastic wasn't transparent anymore. I found a sticker that said "Hafa Adai," something she said frequently, by chance on Etsy and gave it to her and she immediately stuck it to that mug. She called me once when I found a huge peony bush growing in my backyard and sent her a photo, we talked for a few hours about plants and work. She loved gardening very much, she bought so many plants. Her favorite flower was gerbera daisies.

Her last day at work, I worked with her all day. She'd been getting tired, it was three days before Thanksgiving. She actually left when she was supposed to, I was going to cover her department for her, and she almost left that mug out on the salesfloor.

I was supposed to be there at 10 or maybe that day and came in early by mistake by several hours, she laughed at me and I went home for more sleep.

The next day was her day off. She shopped a bit and shared some lunch with another coworker. She was always sharing food with us, she loved fried chicken. I caught her as she left the breakroom to tell her I was putting her mug in there and she decided to take it home with her. She didn't do that often. I havent seen that mug since. Or at least, I think this is the timeline. My memory is famously bad, which is part of why I'm typing all of this out.

The day before thanksgiving, I was supposed to come in at 10 again. I was sleeping in. The night before, around four in the morning, I woke up at random feeling very unwell and passed out on my roommate's bedroom floor. She gave me some of a cookie and took my blood pressure, which was crazy low. I barely made it back into my loft bed after I got some sugar in me.

I got a call around 8 from another coworker who was close with her, telling me she was supposed to have come in at six in the morning but hadnt shown up. I live across the street from her, so she asked if I'd go check on her. I caught my roommate as she left to go to a little clinic for an awful cold or flu she had and she walked over with me. I'd only ever visited my friend in the backyard area of the apartments, so the coworker had to get me her address.

We banged on her door. We yelled her name. I went to see if her car was in the lot and that's when my roommate realized the door was unlocked. She called my name in this tone of voice I've only heard from her once before and as I walked in, to see my friend asleep in her husband's favorite recliner with my roommate's hand on her jawline, she said "She's cold." She was already on the phone with 911.

The way she said that is stuck in my brain. The flashbacks have gotten better, Ive gotten some more medication to work on the sleeping issues and dissasociation. Sometimes, at random and unpromted, I remember it and I freeze.

I dont remember much after that. I did one, maybe two chest compressions, but the smell of her breath when she groaned from the pressure made it clear she'd been gone for a little while. I collapsed and I wailed, my roommate says she's never heard someone make those sounds before. She said it was practically keening. I held her cold hand and sobbed her name. When we finally left her, the cops were there and spoke with us. Her neighbors were out and looking at us. One got me away from the door and into the arms of an older woman who brought us into her home. He still checks on me at work.

My friend's emergency contact was still set to her husband. She has three adult children, maybe four? The neighbor who took us in managed to get in touch with a friend of the husband of her youngest daughter and she was able to come down, she lived the closest out of all of them.

The new store manager called to ask if I was still coming in after she found out. She was on speaker because I couldnt hold my phone. The neighbor, who was a retired EMT, told her I was in shock and the manager told her I still needed to come in. I came in. I sobbed on the salesfloor. I worked my whole shift. I dry heaved. I didnt eat for two weeks. I couldnt eat the meatball sub my roommate's mother gave me when I was home, the smell was too similar. I managed to eat one again a week ago, I couldnt let this ruin something I used to love. We found out she'd probably laid down for a nap after setting a turkey to brine.

Roommate and I had already planned a trip to Midwest Furfest soon after. Her celebration of life was the day we planned to leave and we stayed through the whole thing and drove through the whole night. Her eldest child hugged me and thanked me for caring enough to go find her, she thanked me for being the one to find her rather than letting them find her maybe days later. It comforted me. I'm glad it happened the way it did, though I'm still pretty messed up.

The day of her celebration of life, I found my rat Allan passed in his hammock like the punchline to an awful joke.
Nobody at work seems to understand why I'm not "over it" (my friend's death) yet, months later.

After we returned from our trip, the manager caught me crying in the cooler my first day back and chewed me out for wasting time. Told me other people in the world have it worse off than me, that I just got back from vacation and shouldn't still be so broken up. I clawed my scalp so badly that I bled. I went home an hour later, at the end of my shift, and kicked a hole in my moped's side. I punched a tree for so long, so hard, that my hands were bruised for a month and my broken knuckles have only just healed.

I found out that when she called me that day to ask if I was still coming in, she did it on the salesfloor in front of all the cashiers and baggers. Loudly.

It's miserable working there now. I don't have my friend. The manager is awful. But I'm sticking around entirely out of spite. She's chased off so many longtime employees, we all lowkey blame her in part for the death because she encouraged overworking my friend, but I refuse to let her chase me off. I'm not going to leave because of her. She clearly wants me gone and I refuse to budge.

I'm down to two rats, Percy Persimmon and Pumpkin. Terry passed at home a few weeks ago and I'm taking a couple months break from rat ownership after these two pass. I have some death feigning beetles now, my friend said they reminded her of scarabs and she was one of the few that wasn't disgusted by my choice of pets. She used to sing "Ben" to me as a joke and it made me love that song. She sang beautifully, her celebration had so many videos of her singing.

I'm not unhappy, but I'm not content. I'm not really "happy" these days and I don't know when or if this is all going to get off my back. I just want to go back to my day-to-day without this invading my thoughts every time. I think about it daily. It's dumb. It's silly.

I loved her. I don't know if she cared as much for me as I did her, but I loved her.