If you're here, you could be there.

Laid with Lady Miss Friday for the first part of the morning, then finally got up and did a fucking fraction of the house work that needs to be done. I'm not going to scream at or flay myself here. I took out the trash and recycling, litter box, sweeping...I'm on the hobo side of self-care right now, but couldn't motivate myself to fix me. I watched the kids run around their paper playgrounds, then laid with Lady Miss Friday (according to her demands). Tim called since I wasn't able to come down last weekend, and I meant to do more house and person work and then head down, but....Well, my vape pen *finally* arrived. It was only shipping from LA, there is no fucking reason it should have taken 5 days. But whatever, I got it. I looked for weed shops selling both Raw Garden and Beezle, but no one was. Not only that but PotMatess had a 5 for $80 deal on Nerds Ropes, and those are supposed to be absurdly strong. Nothing got me "there," but I did manage to get a little high for a bit.

Tim called me again in the afternoon, since I hadn't showed up yet. I get the feeling it's largely to get me out of my cave, where I'm increasingly content to be sealed in forever. I finally dragged myself away from Lady Miss Friday and my cave, but brought my vape with me and listened to Silver Lining by just clicking Back every time it finished on the way there. Obv. I realized part way there that I'd forgotten cheese, but instead of being *yet* later, just screamed at myself the whole way. Makes sense.(?) Tim was already in the parking lot when I got there, we chatted a bit, then surprised Pupple with my presence. Being me, even his contented, delighted wheezes meant he was just okay seeing me. Tim gave me cheese to feed him, we chatted about Might while Pupple basked in the sun, and I was going to jet instead of going on a walk with them but....Harmony Bear took over. I couldn't take Pupple being unhappy with the pack getting broken up, so I walked with them. On the walk, I finally looked into it online, and found out that 1) the Youtube Music app actually has a Repeat option, and 2) you can set regular Youtube to repeat by right clicking on the play button...and some other part of it.

Inspired by ADI's side projects, I delved into my old journal entries and started tagging them. I had an issue at first, because I couldn't find the Next button if I didn't have a post the next day...but I was just being dumb. It was fascinating. Looking at me 15 years ago, I can see the red flags. There's a lot. On the plus side, my speech patterns and sense of humor haven't moved an inch in 15 years.

Eventually, I was scrolling FB and saw a post from Mandy that she needed a ride to pick up her furkid, Max. No one else had responded, and ...y'all know how I feel about helping. Max wasn't quite ready yet, so we chatted in the car for a while. Like most people, she was tangentially aware of everything, but asked for the whole story. She's gone through similar ish, and in another life, would have made a great therapist. Kali loaned her money for the treatment, but she couldn't find her card when they finally came out. I didn't say anything, just whipped my card out, but VCA said they'd accept a delayed payment. In talking to her, I realized (or started to realize?) some interconnected issues. It turns out I will fucking destroy myself for *Failing* to save someone else. I don't think this is news to anyone but me.

When I got home I read something about pharaohs, and it got me thinking about my own death. I'd already been sinking, for no fucking logical reason, but the one thing I always remember about Egypt and the pharaohs is that they had their pets mummified with them. It's one of those things that makes me want a PU-36 Space Modulator, and weighed me down further. I did decide I wanted to be buried next to them. My mice aren't possible, but Lady Miss Friday is going to live for a long time. Of course, if her and my mum are both out by then.....I posted about my desire to be buried with them, but of course felt guilty for not including all my friends, so I added an explanation.

When scheduling my trip to go see my parents, I was extremely worried that whichever weekend I chose would end up being the wrong one. At least I was right about something.

Now that I'm going this weekend, I realize that last weekend would have been perfect, and this weekend fails. Not content to simply teach me my lesson, the universe is now gloating over just how wrong I was. The latest smackdown is that one of the cats we had when my parents lived here, Bubba, died yesterday. I don't really get emotional about things, and this is no exception (as usual, while I don't feel bad that Bubba is dead, I do feel bad that I don't feel bad), but the whole "could have seen him one last time"-thing is just one more thing to add to the ever growing pile of shame and bad decisions that is my life so far. Fucking hindsight.
I begin to wonder just how far the universe is going to go with this, and I'm going to be a very unhappy boy if one of my planes crashes this weekend. My sheer, unbridled rage at having been so wrong about which weekend to visit will bring me back to life, and I'll go on a rampage, and they'll make a video game about it.

Think about that, Universe, before deciding how important it is to you to get in that last "fuck you".

Oh, yeah, and it would suck for the other passengers, too.

Squeak