Monday, May 4, 2015


Sometimes life is good.  Yesterday I saw Home, it's a good movie.  I saw it in good company.

Sometimes life is bad.  After the movie there were hours spent lost on unmarked roads.  When we finally went in the right direction after the third time through a certain intersection, it turned out that the "next right" was a lie and you had to continue straight except since the roads were all unmarked there was no way to know that you were on the wrong road (or the correct one) and thus decision making ended up being, "We'll try this until we lose all hope."

It was well passed my bedtime before we even made it to the beginning point of our journey, it is better not to speak of when we reached the end.

This morning, hours before anyone had any business being conscious, a small child chose to share my bed.  Quickly sleeping peacefully the small child dominated the pillow space and I didn't sleep well for the rest of the time I should have been sleeping.

Through the day I was sluggish, acomplishing far less than I should have.

After child-school the children decided to spend an hour + "Abandon all hope ye who enter here; I gave up checking my watch ages ago," at the playground which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact the climate made Death Valley look cool and the sunlight was very direct and very searing.

Heat tends to unsettle my digestive system.  As does getting too little sleep because of getting to bed late (lost on unmarked roads) or waking up early (bed invaded by child, pillows lost in the initial attack.)

I'd already offered to buy children slush.  When how I felt went beyond ill and started to feel like someone was somehow dropping large rocks inside of my intestines I changed the offer to, "Heat makes me sick, I'm going.  If we don't go now, I'm not getting you slush."

As expected, 50% of the population was easily persuaded.  Somewhat unexpectedly the other 50% wasn't persuaded at all.  Fortunately that was the portion that could be counted on to safely get home on it's own.

Slush turned into ice cream for the compliant 50% and I decided to drop that half off at the house and then head back for the other half after, hopefully cooling my body down with slush of my own in the middle.

I got the house to the surprise that the other 50% was already there.

Hours later: an evasive story changes in repetition indicating that previous claims were false and therefore:

The 50% left at the school who made it home on own left all stuff at school, outside, unguarded, in plain sight.  Including a shiny new trumpet.

Drama later: The stuff is returned.

Cool down time later: the trumpet leaver has claimed the house, locking all doors with deadbolts.  Keys would be useless even if we had one.

Bullshit later: get back in house, start writing this post.

Last week I had to miss a final because of problems with medication.  The teacher was understanding, even though I was going to be unable to take the test until two days from now.

This week medication hasn't been a problem, but I think I might have been better off if depression, anxiety, and withdrawal systems were my problem this week.

Sometimes life sucks.

Fucking deadbolts.

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