In bed, SURFER, hot chocolate. Bundled like a spring roll in this fuzzy blanket. By all accounts a good day, where every time my phone rang I had a ready answer even though it was Monday and the guy put an appropriate amount [lots] of banana peppers on my turkey sandwich. That’s how the six-month threshold passed.
My parents visited over the weekend, I detailed how I plan to spend significant portions of time not working. They admitted Christmas gifts are problematic, as “they will just end up stored in our garage.”
A’s in the psych ward, drug induced delusional paranoia. I don’t really know if he’s coming back and it made me think how there are different ways you watch people die. It’s just a matter of knowing what you were looking at. The call came from a kid I used to drink beer with when I was fifteen, placating a bit but more passing off the responsibility. The strangest part is relief; when he’s there he won’t be evening news.
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