I’m home at last and Patches couldn’t give a shit.

I’m home at last and Patches couldn’t give a shit.

I wrote a short novel last night where I listed my happiest moments and one of them was Harry coming around after the diabetic ketoacidosis nightmare.
This is what I was talking about.
November 16, 2015.

Big honkin’ garter snake.

Helicopter flying directly over my head.


Twice now I have had trouble opening up the patio umbrella. The boom arm thingie won’t slide into place correctly. Last time I was able to do it but today it didn’t quite open all the way.
Shit.
I was able to refill the line in the weed wacker, but it doesn’t quite auto-fill as it’s running. I can work around that, but still…
Shit.
The grass is 10 feet tall. Today is the only day I have to cut it. It looks like it poured rain last night and it’s starting to rain again.
Shit.
Describe your day with one photograph:






I don’t know why but I’m a total mess tonight, emotionally speaking. We had both kids home for a while today and now I’m here and I just can’t deal. I had a couple of spontaneous balling my eyes out moments before I left home. It had been a couple of weeks since that happened so maybe I was just due. I don’t know. I just know I can’t take much more of this. It’s breaking me.
