13,519 Days Alive
11 Days Till the Move
1 Long Day
Today was spent clearing off my old bookshelves and getting them ready for their new home. And throwing things into boxes for donations.
I threw out three bags of old clothes. I plan to go through and plan specific outfits to downsize even further.
I need to go through my books again. There has to be some I can get rid of or re-home.
There are morons setting off fireworks outside my window. Ugh. I despise this holiday. The Fourth of July is just an excuse to celebrate white mediocrity and colonialism.
I found the note my ex-wife wrote to me when I was put on a psych hold, down here referred to as Baker Acted, for a suicide attempt a few years ago.
I was so… distraught. I cried. A lot.
And I threw away Daddy’s glasses. Donated his ties. Gave away some of the books and sweaters he got me. Though… I kept his two favorite watches for myself. And his tie bars.
I reached out, though. Asked Cleo for comfort. Cried on them a bit. Reached out to J as well. And I bounced back as best I could. Though I was hella anxious most of the day.
I also gamed with Bianco after a long shower. We played TFT again and I died first, so I ended up in eighth place.
I was going to try and do Camp NaNoWriMo, but I don’t have the spoons right now. Too much going on with the move in less than two weeks.
I’m exhausted, in pain, and emotionally a wreck. I’m going to listen to music and go to bed.
Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonderland 