No, not really. I’m just over Honda today. I’m tired. I’m moody.
Is it home, yet?
She wants me to take all the blue dotted returnables. There’s like 900 of them, and only me doing it. On foot.
I’m this close to throwing up my hands and hopping on the tugger.
I’m not supposed to drive it while my hands are healing. The PA’s recommendation.
But I’m gripping the bars on the returnables, anyway. So what’s the difference? At least then the rest of my body wouldn’t be exhausted.
Most days I’m okay with doing it on foot. Today, for some reason, I’m not. I think because I’m expecting mail…
Desmond, it’s a lady thing, that thing that happens to girls during puberty? Yeah, that goes on for decades.
Good times.
I’m usually cranky the day before, and then weepy the second day of. These behaviors have occurred so consistently over years and years that I could probably graph it beautifully. Perfectly.
Since I was 12.
Even though I feel sad, there’s still something oddly comforting about the reliability of my emotions at this particular time. At least I can kind of prepare for it. At least there is something to explain why I might just start crying seemingly out of nowhere. Why things seem to bother me more than usual.
My hands are extremely dirty.
Talk later I hope. ❤️