Frazzeledest.
How I got like this...
My brother/friend/twin flamingest had this house e-i-e-i-o
He sold his house. I'll miss it, but I remain defiantly GLAD! It was running him into the ground. The house closed Tuesday. Alas he had an emergency appendectomy the Wednesday before. On train by 4:00 am Friday, in Union Station by 4:00pm. (train was late, and it broke, govt. sucks, but it ain't fascism)
Moved, packed...storage units in DC have no AC! On the 5th floor! WTF! Mine in Pittsburgh does.
Connected with someone who has live my very own life! Southern Debutante, weirdo religion, forced into unwitting leadership/teaching role against all protest to the contrary, blahlahblah...it was good to compare notes, and a relief that I haven't een singled out by the Universe.
Saturday, pack and move...no uhaul truck...I love uhaul trucks. I rent them at the drop of a hat. Best 20$ investment EVAR!
Brother trying to stay on couch so his ittybitty entrails don't fall out-he FAILZ!
Bitch at unrepentant invalid, pack and move. Elevator drama!Stay up too late again...
Sunday, the same, but with a COCKTAIL PARTY?! WTF! right in the middle of pack and move...
Monday pack and move, get a taxi to Union Station with Samuel Jackson, the unknown best ever philosophizing cabbie in the world. Cancer survivor. Immigrant. Father of 12. Learned to drive in-no shit-AddisAabba-talked like the Buddha, drove like Charles Manson.
Off train in Pittsburgh at 1AM. Hugged man, hugged dog. Still could not sleep.
Tuesday I WAS USELESS!
Wednesday, picked up uhaul truck (see love the uhaul truck-we use them to move big lots of stuff!) Man drove to Baltimore. My spa equipment then refuses to fit through all three doors in its prior home. Doors were taken off hinges, but not without a certain amount of pointless dialogue of how it might be done without taking them off GROAN! The thing is about 61/2 feet long, 41/2 feet high, is roughly egg-shaped, slick, impossible to grip, inflexible, and PRICEY! Oh and it weights damn near three hundred pounds...and still no spa to put it in...finally, our wounded, sweaty carcasses are back in the truck-the aforementioned uhaul truck-for moving lots of stuff?! We grab Denny's in Frederick, MD...my phone rings...
It is the ER in Pittsburgh. Seems my 17 year-old daughter has been hit by a car while riding her bicycle. The woman who called was admissions, getting permission to treat. All she could tell me was that "she is awake" FREAKOUT ON 3-2-1...call appendectomy patient in DC...get immoral support...get ER back. Daughter is badly bruised, and still being examined. Uhaul truck has a governor on the engine, won't exceed 75mph. Put call out for magickal assistance. Oh, and this is abour 150 miles from Pittsburgh. Oh, and my daughter had my dog at her place...drivedrivedrivedrive...praypraypray...daughter calls. The hospital is releasing her. She has a deeply bruised femur. They gave her crutches, vicodin, and an x-ray to make sure her leg was not broken.
She was hit by an elderly man in a big car. He gave her 200.00 and she didn't get his name, license plate, or call the cops. I told her that is why people have car insurance, especially since we don't have health insurance since I got fired. The damage to the bike is almost 300.00. But she s ok. That is the important thing. Mainly she is ok. She can't get around, or work, or remember that she begged me to sell the car...remember the camaro I loved, and sold...
In the midst of this, man is snowed in by work-the freelance life is feast or famine, and he is trying hard to not grump...with spa, my life, his life, and now her life...and his truck HATES me, efuses to be driven nicely...oh, and when she got home from hospital, my dog, who is normally pretty chill, freaked out on this other kid's SERVICE dog...got dog at like 2 am.
Still can't sleep.
I feel like hell. Maybe ause I never oticed that I am smoking like 2, 21/2 packs a day. Maybe cause I forget to eat for long periods of time, then eat whatever...junk...I got weirdly fat around the middle with this self-care plan. No good. Nothing fits. I was down to being a stick, and that was bad...but now I am a stick with an olive on it, and it is bad as well.
Massive detox in progress. Started on Chantix. MUST. STOP. SMOKING. This is retarded. I know smoking is bad. Quitting is worse. Failing to quit is even worse. Friends, family, ancestors, enemies, strangers, forgive what I am about to become in a week...but I need my life back. Have had no coke in three days, and no one has died...
My brother/friend/twin flamingest had this house e-i-e-i-o
He sold his house. I'll miss it, but I remain defiantly GLAD! It was running him into the ground. The house closed Tuesday. Alas he had an emergency appendectomy the Wednesday before. On train by 4:00 am Friday, in Union Station by 4:00pm. (train was late, and it broke, govt. sucks, but it ain't fascism)
Moved, packed...storage units in DC have no AC! On the 5th floor! WTF! Mine in Pittsburgh does.
Connected with someone who has live my very own life! Southern Debutante, weirdo religion, forced into unwitting leadership/teaching role against all protest to the contrary, blahlahblah...it was good to compare notes, and a relief that I haven't een singled out by the Universe.
Saturday, pack and move...no uhaul truck...I love uhaul trucks. I rent them at the drop of a hat. Best 20$ investment EVAR!
Brother trying to stay on couch so his ittybitty entrails don't fall out-he FAILZ!
Bitch at unrepentant invalid, pack and move. Elevator drama!Stay up too late again...
Sunday, the same, but with a COCKTAIL PARTY?! WTF! right in the middle of pack and move...
Monday pack and move, get a taxi to Union Station with Samuel Jackson, the unknown best ever philosophizing cabbie in the world. Cancer survivor. Immigrant. Father of 12. Learned to drive in-no shit-AddisAabba-talked like the Buddha, drove like Charles Manson.
Off train in Pittsburgh at 1AM. Hugged man, hugged dog. Still could not sleep.
Tuesday I WAS USELESS!
Wednesday, picked up uhaul truck (see love the uhaul truck-we use them to move big lots of stuff!) Man drove to Baltimore. My spa equipment then refuses to fit through all three doors in its prior home. Doors were taken off hinges, but not without a certain amount of pointless dialogue of how it might be done without taking them off GROAN! The thing is about 61/2 feet long, 41/2 feet high, is roughly egg-shaped, slick, impossible to grip, inflexible, and PRICEY! Oh and it weights damn near three hundred pounds...and still no spa to put it in...finally, our wounded, sweaty carcasses are back in the truck-the aforementioned uhaul truck-for moving lots of stuff?! We grab Denny's in Frederick, MD...my phone rings...
It is the ER in Pittsburgh. Seems my 17 year-old daughter has been hit by a car while riding her bicycle. The woman who called was admissions, getting permission to treat. All she could tell me was that "she is awake" FREAKOUT ON 3-2-1...call appendectomy patient in DC...get immoral support...get ER back. Daughter is badly bruised, and still being examined. Uhaul truck has a governor on the engine, won't exceed 75mph. Put call out for magickal assistance. Oh, and this is abour 150 miles from Pittsburgh. Oh, and my daughter had my dog at her place...drivedrivedrivedrive...praypraypray...daughter calls. The hospital is releasing her. She has a deeply bruised femur. They gave her crutches, vicodin, and an x-ray to make sure her leg was not broken.
She was hit by an elderly man in a big car. He gave her 200.00 and she didn't get his name, license plate, or call the cops. I told her that is why people have car insurance, especially since we don't have health insurance since I got fired. The damage to the bike is almost 300.00. But she s ok. That is the important thing. Mainly she is ok. She can't get around, or work, or remember that she begged me to sell the car...remember the camaro I loved, and sold...
In the midst of this, man is snowed in by work-the freelance life is feast or famine, and he is trying hard to not grump...with spa, my life, his life, and now her life...and his truck HATES me, efuses to be driven nicely...oh, and when she got home from hospital, my dog, who is normally pretty chill, freaked out on this other kid's SERVICE dog...got dog at like 2 am.
Still can't sleep.
I feel like hell. Maybe ause I never oticed that I am smoking like 2, 21/2 packs a day. Maybe cause I forget to eat for long periods of time, then eat whatever...junk...I got weirdly fat around the middle with this self-care plan. No good. Nothing fits. I was down to being a stick, and that was bad...but now I am a stick with an olive on it, and it is bad as well.
Massive detox in progress. Started on Chantix. MUST. STOP. SMOKING. This is retarded. I know smoking is bad. Quitting is worse. Failing to quit is even worse. Friends, family, ancestors, enemies, strangers, forgive what I am about to become in a week...but I need my life back. Have had no coke in three days, and no one has died...