13,258 Days Alive
122 Miles Driven and Then Some
3 Servings of Gummy Worms Consumed
2 New To Me Shirts
It’s been a long, long day.
I’m okay. A little emotional being at Grandma Gator’s with Cousin Kay. I’ve been gifted two of my late grandfather’s shirts and the family’s old backgammon board.
Backgammon was something Grandpa Gator’s first wife, my Nana, taught me how to play when I was a wee thing. Grandma Gator hasn’t played backgammon since he, being Grandpa Gator, passed in September of 2018. I also got one of Grandpa Gator’s Manchester United shirts and one of his button downs. It means a lot that I can have little pieces of family history. I’m legitimately trying not to cry.
Now I just need to find some poor, long-suffering friend to play with me. I’m sure I can convince someone. Maybe I can convince Mal and Bubbles to play a game next time I’m over at their place.
Mentally, I’m fried. This week has been long and frustrating and filled with difficulty that I’ve tried to weather as gracefully as I could. Brain gremlins are louder than usual. Talking smack and being pests. Saying terrible things about me.
No one wants you around.
They only put up with you to gain something.
You’re a burden on those you love.
You’d be better as a corpse. That way at least they’d get a life insurance payments.
Y’know, standard mental depreciation radio bullshit without the commercial breaks.
I’ll get through it. I am worthy of love and affection. My friends enjoy my company.
I’m heading to bed. Going to see my other Gator family members tomorrow, Mark and Lauren. They’re my maternal uncle and his wife, respectively. We’ve not seen each other in several years. Mostly because he hates me.
But it’s whatever.
Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonderland 