(no subject)

My grandma died this morning. Not really a surprise. She's been ill for ages. I can't write about it without sounding horribly self-obsessed.
I'm singing My Heart Will Go On at the funeral, which is next week. I can almost get through the whole song without crying at the moment.
Really it feels like the crying is just an excuse and I'm really crying about something else, but I don't know what that something is. I seem to have got over this awfully fast; I watched Frasier at lunchtime, had a laugh, felt fine.
Eh, just thought you ought to know. Or felt it's journal-worthy. Or something.