Of The Sandman and Sadness

13,571 Days Alive

6 Episodes of The Sandman Watched

3.25 Hours Spent on Trainings for Work

Bianco and I watched the first six episodes of The Sandman. We were only supposed to watch one or two and… well, that didn’t happen.

Some triggering material in there, for self harm and gore, but a damn good story. I always felt sorry for Dream in the comics. Now I just think he’s very much like Louis from Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles. A bit mopey and in need of a hug, but pretty and interesting.

I have to do laundry tomorrow morning. I’m not looking forward to it.

I was supposed to have coffee with Jake this morning, but got accidentally blown off. He overslept, texted me half an hour after we were supposed to meet up. And he never apologized for being late/no-showing. So. There might be the end of that particular budding social relationship. I despise being late. I don’t like it when others are late either, but strive to be understanding. But to not even apologize for the lack of showing up shows a blatant disregard for my time.

I ripped out four rows of what I’m calling the Kokomo Mosaic Blanket today. And then redid them without error. Whoops.

I’m sad. And broke. And frustration abounds because I’m still not working full time. It’s wretched. I’m doing my best.

Mentally I’m not doing great. I still can’t find Megan’s damned scarf. I also can’t find the hat I made back in June for Ann. Ugh. I need to clean my room and fix my bed linens when I have the spoons to do so.

Anyway, life isn’t terrible but it sure ain’t great. I’m going to bed.

Take your meds, folks.

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