It is pouring rain like the end of the world out there. The remnants of Ida have arrived.
I really want to go to sleep. I’m completely out of gas. My “bed” is made and I’m ready, but the laundry isn’t done and my mother is awake and walking around. It’s not a pain thing tonight, she just won’t sleep.
I’m assuming the pillow case belongs to my nephew, but who knows. It could be dad’s. His pillow case has trucks on it.
Interviewer: So, Robert, is there one thing you can point to and say, “that has made me the man I am today?”
Robert: (points)
She’s just pissed off that she can’t sleep in my spot tonight.
I ordered this for Harry’s move last week. Really could have used it, but it wasn’t delivered on time.
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:
