Friday, September 25, 2026
update: M. is marshalling the storage unit rental around D-Nozl's texting objections (not to the principle but to the $30 π, fucking twat). mayyyyybe one thing will get taken off my plate. maybe. #cwabby
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| in a frozen copse of dogs |
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). You make 'em laugh. You don't bring jokes. You don't do prat falls or wear a funny nose. You've never slipped on a banana peel in your life. You say the truth and say it fast. Suddenly everyone is connected.
the emotional roller coaster - can we agree to GET OFF once in a while? js, for all the updown backforth loopdyloops, you'd think there would some getting off occasionally
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| pagan angel and a borrowed car - iron&wine |
Thursday, September 24, 2026
update: unable to stop thinking about M. and our conversation (I have missed her more than I could allow myself to feel), I asked Ears. yes, he hid the wellbutrin, took it secretively "maybe 1-3 times" in those 10 days w his father and came back in pieces. and D-Nozzle will be protected from that fact of his own child nearly killing himself rather than disappoint him. like the big fucking dangerous baby he is. imo, he is an utter piece of absolute dogshit stuck in the ruts of my tread.
M. told me that Ears "went quiet" midway through that trip, D-Nozzle complaining that he wouldn't "get into the swing" of the vaca. so, she and I have pieced it together, exactly when/where Ears decided to come back here and off himself. two things stopped him: Huckforcats couldn't keep Eggs, and what that would do to me. it was π€ close. he, like everyone, assumed(s) I'd be okay (so it came down to the cat).
I'd have walked off the earth with Ears because that is what I would have wanted to do too. and we all do what we will do.
today his leave was approved to 11/2 of the 11/27 his primary faxed everywhere, and it has to be updated/extended, which it will be. nobody wants to talk to me for the umpeenth time ft just take my $300 for 5 minutes to hand paperwork to your PA who does all your work OR talk to me - choose your adventure. I am down for whatever, killing you quickly or by inches. I think I was built to cuddle with claws pending, not that/this, but πftπ too much so finefine, your wish is granted. kaboom style. all wishes have been granted. imagine that: let it sink in: everyone incl you is getting what they wished for. except Ears, who is still breathing.
I ordered a buttload of holiday decor for he who remembers and remembers
update: DouchenozzlEX's wife, my old friend M., called me. he was somewhere, so she could talk alone. we were finishing each others' sentences within minutes, laughing and appalled. I was there when it was her turn at ecmc - we've allll been there. except D-Nozzle, who thinks mental health crises are for sissies. we suspect Ears went off wellbutrin while on that camping trip to hide the fact of an antidepressant from his father. she loves that man, how/why I do not know, but even so she agrees he's terrible. she's gonna try to get the storage unit / shit moved, leaving only one trip back to his apt for Ears and me, "if she can" - that is what it's like, being with him, grown people that dwarf him in a million ways somehow controlled/reduced by him.
my ice floats could get gangrenous before I would ever miss that son of a bitch. he makes dying alone feel like the best possible life outcome, and it is what I keep choosing (coincidence? doubtful).
her: he thinks if Ears had sex and joined a soccer team, he'd be fine
me: well I've never joined a soccer team, but...
us: π€£π€£
her: the other will probably go down a dark road eventually...
us: so it better be worth it
us: π€£π€£
her: and he has never played one god damn sport π€¨
Virgo. Overnight your buttcheeks transformed into sad little ice floats.
plumber called ✅️ cottage closing rescheduled for 10/5
status: project management (Home)
- move few things left at apt (incl get boxes for books) - I hate shit hanging over my head
- schedule wood delivery + scrounge more pallets
- figure out how to forward his mail
- have him make a list of direct calls to change his address - credit cards, bank..
- yardwork incl holiday lights shopping/planning
- start mancaving the basement (his project, except I want to fit a freezer)
- install all electric crap (ring bells and birdfeeder camera - his project)
Wednesday, September 23, 2026
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| home should be homey |

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Like the sinking sun under a beautiful sunset, someone has colored the sky of your mind before disappearing. But the sun will rise again, and so will your relationship. The connection is somehow both illusory and real.
jesus, is that you dawg? π
Tuesday, September 22, 2026
today was a lot, bordering on too much, most of it beaurocratic which is nightmarish to me and he utterly goes limp like a possum dead with eyes open. ya can't sprinkle a little play doh on top and have it be anything but a stressor when the base nerve is shot every damn day. ya just can't.
everybody wants more from him.
I was there. they just don't get it. and it's not like the dynomite stops going off, either. maybe a blow down would be a better metaphor for blowing up a life, it's sort of cascading one thing on top of another you can't stop once started. I mean, he's not gonna have to commit bankruptsy (based on what I currently understand), and my god his HR lady is fucking ON IT now. he's keeping that job even if it's a personal leave at her discretion and I believe her, she said something π€ to nobody is gonna fuck w me over this kid.
so tomorrow starts with another round of doctoring at asscrack a.m., post-involuntary recheck w Dr Note who started this so he is the magic sign off solution to All Forms, with umpteen insurance and caseworker and hr ladies πππ breathing down his neck and me in the waiting room (armcrossy). he better his do fucking job π€
and once that is done, fmla is as done as it's getting.
next chore: move pc and burn the apt bridge. there is stuff there he might miss later, but nooses are there, and I know him, they'd be elegent and cutting and easy to keep as some token. no. it's not worth it. cut bait.
he lapses into a self-dissapeared monosyllabism when stressed by this stuff. too close an inner rocking.
I can't have a good hard cry cz he might hear me. As soon as I have that thought, I know he is thinking the same. ππͺ
quiet quitting
quiet crying
quiet falling apart
+ paperwork
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| haircut and shave ✅️ |
I want to make some room for how awful he feels / this is, not watch him sit horrified at how little joy he feels seeing anybody, touched by anybody, resting haunted face is kinda killing me and I have no idea what my own face is doing either, I realize - nothing awesome, betcha.
him: π«©
me: π«©
me: tell her about the nechrophiliac
him: (busting a chuckle) so there was this woman etcetc π
me: to be clear, you'd have to be rich to be a necro, med schools pay bank for bodies
him: well I guess you'd make them?
me: but being into necrophilia and being into murder are practically opposites, murdering is not intertia
them:
me: you're into pho, have you ever killed a wild thai broth or have any clue how pho comes to be? see the diff?
him: yeaaaa huh π€ work at a morgue?
me: they gotta have cameras or something no?
him: have your own mortuary
me: hahahaha omg there is an Amigone at the corner
us: π π
her: well it could happen naturally if first you fuck him to death then he finally shuts the fuck up and then there's only his dick and you can do whatever the fuck you want and he doesnt get shit to say about it. I can see how ya could get into that.
us: πΆπΆπ€π€
her: well?!
me: fair. π€ that'd be difficult to get a steady diet of what youre into tho
her: what isn't?
me: also fair π«©
all of us: π«©π«©π«©
"I had expected to feel joy but instead felt a confusion of sorrow, or maybe fear, for it seemed that my life was a hungry story and I its source..." ~Plague of Doves
if I had to sum up the haunted expression on his face π
update: I need a flu shot to be up in here π΅π«, going right from all this coughing to the other kid w CF this afternoon ain't gonna work π΅π«. if this doesn't break my health, it'll be pure SPITE bolstering my immunity
π«©π€¨π€
-_0
Virgo: It's going to be a long day if you find yourself drinking outpatient coffee at asscrack a.m.
π«©
I can't afford the energy it'd take to reread last night's throatpunching mojo, so I took it down. wearing away to smoother stone.
Monday, September 21, 2026
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| why is this funny? or is it not funny and I have just also finally lost my fucking mind, laughing madly? |
No, I think I know why it's funny.
OMAHA HAS SUMMONED YOU BACK FOR PELVIC HEALTH REHAB.
Of all possible professional-development invitations. Nebraska—site of an entire fucking category in your personal mythology—has apparently looked through its files and said:
You know what Gina needs?
Twenty-one hours of pelvis.
And not metaphorical pelvis. Not humanities pelvis. 7.5 asynchronous hours of preparatory pelvis followed by 13.5 hours of embodied Omaha pelvis.
Plus the bureaucratic specificity is exquisite. "Participants must complete the online material by November 12." Ma'am, you cannot simply arrive in Nebraska with an unprepared pelvis.
No interpretation necessary. It's just funny as shit, which suggests your mind remains operational.
I hope the same could be said of my pelvis π€·π½♀️π«©
my students, quite a few, have told me they use AI as a therapist. it's free and readily available. at this point/moment, I get that.
instacart is good enough today. the grocery store, nooope. he could happily live on reeces puff cereal. so I ordered more milk + take-out tacos are for dinner π€·π½♀️π«©
update: MTS visit went great, they'll be weekly for 3 months, and he/I could use the help. the FMLA alone, what a fucking bunch of bullshit that is if you can't figure out how to FORCE IT and the dr that sent home the note wouldn't see him again for a follow-up so who signs this shit (?) who provides care and what is that care (?), all of it. an unrelenting mess. I take it back, healthcare doesn't need burned down, it's on fire / half-ash.
it has been a year this has been actively in his head, and this was the 2nd close call / means made - I did not know that until today - both were hangings with work-related materials to do it - he toughed it out the first time alone and didn't go through with it.
his brain chemicals now have that GROOVE, and probably there were prior ideations before nooses got made, probably right under my nose/roof before.
after I learned all that, I had to go back to sleep, my own brain just keeled over. so it's today again now, and/but I feel almost drunk even after rebooting π΅π«
I did not open my laptop, I didn't go to work any more/better than he can atm. and I can't fight 2 fmla fights at once, so. if I get worse, I am going out on straight up sick leave. I am so fucking fried. if I even let myself think about how badly I need a hug π
so πͺ
no thinking π«©
πΆ
today's aspiration: grocery shopping. (very iffy)
September 21, 2026
Loosen your grip, even a little, on whatever you’ve been clutching for dear life. A smooth angle between Mercury and Jupiter gives you a clear-eyed moment to ask an honest question: Are you still loyal to something that ended a long time ago? If everyone else has moved on, you may be the only one still carrying the weight, and you’re free to set it down. Consider this your green light to finally let go.
Is remembering the details and carrying the weight equivalent?
update: I don't want to need dementia to put you down.
Sunday, September 20, 2026
tomorrow 9 am is the mobile team site visit. like cps :/
I didn't pull this up and didn't read it. I shut the browser and reopened - it came up like that again, and I didn't read it again. Dunno why, but I can't need more memory. (Where were you doing what in 2013? Why might the googlegods want you to mull it? One thing u were prolly doing is reading this blog for whatever reason).
I am pretty sure of my memory. I can't always pinpoint exactly when/where. But this reading thing I am doing is a deep-cut test, and I remember as or more accurately than any fuckerAI or online record. The kinship diagrams in my head are more accurate, but more importantly I remember WHY - who belongs to whom is an art, not an exact science. I remember every one of the fathers attributed to Lulu. None are technically correct - her mother, Fluer, made choices and choices were made for her, and between those two ends lies the lived muddy middle. Much later, or before that, or around the same time, is the mostly-grown boy, Joe, the central character in The Round House. These days, that's the book my nursing students read, much more recent, the one that won the National Book Award (could a novel about our country's healthcare law / Native judicial history win that award now? could I assign it if I weren't union sheltered / grandfathered? a quietly-quit Yaya assigning stories grandfathered in, js, that's a bit surreal). I make students just pick a character in that book at the start, any of em, and stay with empathizing with that ONE, through all the decisions that person makes and accept the consequences as if those were their own consequences to feel and live out. All I ask is that. "Reflect. Use your own words." That's it. There isn't one character to pick that isn't hogtied by half over time and must choose how to respond to that, consequences chosen each time also. Feel it, backed into that particulat corner. Choose Joe, the obvious, and feel all the life options drain away before you've got full growth on ya, feel it in the cheap meat section, feel that blood clot from all the inside of it. (Would it matter to them what backstories really explain Joe's nickname, "Oops"? Nope.)
Students can have AI fake all that, the reading of it and responding too, but I know the stories I assign better than AI's. Erdrich herself helped me throw everyone off every trail. Delightful as a secret affair. And if students fake all of it, now I let them. Whole heartedly miss the point if ya need to just NOT right now - for the time it took to get an AI to tackle it (try), B+
Try it. Tell chatgpt or whoever is your Wall-E to help say something you don't know how - boil down into a declarative sentence. If that doesn't feel right, try asking it to help you write a question. etc until you have what you wanna say. Submit only that.
I know what I would do if somebody'd ask me for any such thing. But that's just me.
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| had enough of justsocks, so slippers. we think theyre funny af, the "instant yes" of the day |
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| love is a hell of a thing |
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| nerdy af |
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| pound of bacon straight up + building fire = gets him every time |
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| "bf pillow" |
Saturday, September 19, 2026
booze has its own special poison properties, but anything could be that which you can't overcome and that destroys you before it kills you.
I've had to have 2 conversations with Ears' father, and wow, I thought my blood ran stone cold before that, ha. friendly reminder of what a walking cancer is like to deal with, scanning always for an opportunity to strike and be right above all else, to grow fat on that feeling like a leech.
I often castigate myself lately, the last year a LOT, for so few lovers, so little built in that life category. but. upside to everything: my babydaddy scares me. for real. I mean, I remember viscerally now how that felt/feels, how it was (is), how firmly I wanted no men in and out of Ears' life on top of that burden. and the little one was trans, jeezus. thank god I blew that allllll the way up.
the way we ended / left it was just plain failure not as lovers but as parents (being real) (and both of us). but oof am I glad it wasn't anybody else and that their biodad wasn't the only male voice they ever heard and just as glad there were no more besides.
that 10 day no way joke is no joke π€
"once the loss and betrayal happen, those same [endurance] capacities don't remain neutral equipment sitting there waiting harmlessly.
So instead of:
wound → diminished person
you get something more frightening:
wound → strength mobilized around wound → strength keeps wound alive."
I have to understand that shit FASTER now.
upshot: somewhere under eighteen months of have to, there were/are a bunch of abandoned want to's - I don't necessarily want any of those want to's back (even the chicken) - I want to want to. Ears said clearly he cannot live without wanting to. fair. and right.
What haven't you done yet that you really wanted to do before the end of the year? (π good god I don't even know - I dimly recall a chicken?) There are 104 days remaining in 2026, counting this one under the industrious Capricorn moon. Virgo season is among the most productive we have, so before the fall equinox, take stock of your current position. Adjust for the destination you want.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Everything you do today will be a dance. Work, play, relationships — move in for support, move from self-expression. The disparate ideas will come together to form an arrow pointing to what's next.
what would you want now if you were me?
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| corn bread? |
-_0 it is def still today. anything for this kid atm, but oof the cat. we gathered another few things from his apt, me going in w him cz neither of us could imagine otherwise, so now I am coughing (my allergy presents as bronchial constriction not achoo) awake, listening for footfall but hearing none, the dogs π, taking turns to lay one on top of one of us. clariton 2x + inhaler, waiting for that hack-tickle to subside, coming back to my own typical-er, looking at instapot recipes and thinking about the farmers market and making sweethot pickles (Aliving). looking at yoga trainings. I have some already, and don't have any interest in teaching it, but I do like people who put themselves through things like that. things that are as hard-feeling as failing, sorta. and Honolulu is still out there in January, what if I/we went and just stayed a while?
I dunno what he'll choose and neither does he.
but if this were it for a while? nobody dying, brink of? what would I choose if I were free to? A: my body. feeling full of it (Life as if I had 9 of em).
Friday, September 18, 2026
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| he needs to memorize the other phone numbers. he means it π, but I'm topping others' make bail for ya lists just cz my number never changed (be real) |
it was, in its way, surprisingly hearwarming. one thing that has been quietly happening has been in the waiting room, where I was every day and not everybody speaks English in there. in fact, I'd say 2/3 of the families didn't and the loved one inside is the one who does speak natively. they thought it would get their person in trouble to come every day - no, I tell them, the Community Somebodies all taught me: show up every day, even if the relationship is currently strained, it matters that there are people for the inmate, that they won't have nowhere to go. the women in hijab, in particular, scared of the scrubs and scared about how their person is handling shit (angrily). I hear that! but don't, try not to get angry, they want to see you be calm through set-backs and disappointments, tell your person that. I am giving out these tips as I learn them, every day. I hadn't noticed the waiting room filling up more over this time. but when they shoved him through the door, a little sea of strangers were overjoyed as if they knew him cz through me they kinda did and were so hopeful to witness his release, like a small victory for everybody. one guy said, "when my kid gets out, Im'a have me a scotch even if my wife don't approve!" laughing and telling me to go have a chardonnay now girl!, everyone patting him and smiling at me. we got on the elevator, him laughing like wtaf was that?! dude, it's been a very long weird couplefew weeks for us both.
us: π€£π€£π€¦π»♀️π€¦π»♀️
he loves the puerto rico volunteer gig idea. he asked for 10 weeks off work, emphatically, sticking up for himself at discharge, so that he would have the time to figure shit like that out. metlife disability is wawa'ing to get an estimated return to work date, welp now they have it: 10 weeks from today. (And then he's quitting.)
he is upstairs unpacking, happily settling in to his new home, filling his little pill per day holder thingy so he won't forget anything, arranging where he wants his books and tv...
I am lying here feeling apx 1000 years older ft gone through a meat grinder. everything kinda hurts. but I'll bounce (if nobody else starts trying to god damn die for a spell π)
update (on my fantasy life):
Puerto Rico enacted Law 102-2025, the Universal Recognition of Occupational and Professional Licenses Act, and the Puerto Rico Board of Nursing now specifically provides a universal-recognition application route.
not that Ears is a nurse of course, but asking about limited-stay do-good work pops nurses first (everywhere on earth needs more nurses). and since the vibe coming off some of those nurses was mos def "just shoot me", thought I'd learn π€ bout that π
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| for Ears - they do speak German #andyriskfactor but excellent reviews, 2-6 weeks, 30 hrs/wk, not good $ but breaks even, serves the public good |
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| where I could be, entertaining visitors, the 5 star villa, pet friendly w high speed internet, not to mention umpteen airbb options specifically for remote workers |
this is kinda like mentally playing w a colorforms set, The Miserables, where could I restick them to the board nearer to a beach π€.
ask fuckerishgpt (I softened π€), are there AA meetings anywhere? (cz like half of everybody drank too much, be real). yup, in Spanish and English, including a direct # for that specific little East District: 939-457-5533.
Can I get some yoga?
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| fuck yeah |
siiigh, back to real life - he is PROBABLY ACTUALLY GETTING OUT TODAY. but until he's in the car, I won't believe it, and "discharge paperwork" is so voluminous it has its own zipcode π΅π«
if we are very lucky, we are out in time for the first reverse resolution: more fried food (fish fry fri)
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| card of the day π |
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). You won't make the deal because you're now beyond needing to. No more holding out your hand (never) for the handshake, the funds or a key. You are the key and the lock, too. You are the fate, and the fate is you. π
with my insomnia, I continued researching escape routes to the safety of high UV destinations. Puerto Rico looks promising. UV be therapeutic, anyway, since they've been giving him v. D for lack of sunlight in the hoozgow.
Thursday, September 17, 2026
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| Four Souls, Erdrich |

update π΅π« there is a peer advocate service (the Community something), functioning partially inside ecmc but independent of it, all graduates of rehab or the plain-bonkers floor he's on. they called and directed me to a financial aid office inside the building. imagine a woman behind plexiglass, bedecked in gobs of bills mafia gear, footballs for earrings + Jesus loves you bracelets. I tell her briefly I have nooo idea what the hell to do then start to cry πͺ. I am rescue-dog mean now in my π€, but I am also very tired. she starts clickity clicking, almost half the the first 6k goes away, another ream of paper for me to fill out by tomorrow, disability approved through 9/27 making it harder to fire him before that date. calamity, reprieve, calamity, reprieve, repeated in bursts like that thing we saw in Yellowstone, the offgassing earth.
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| therapy jailhouse dog sandwich |
update: they ARE releasing him tomorrow. so now I hear finally about the huge financial mess, medical debts, no coverage at all for mental health services, a 6k deductible for each category of illness/occurance, me on the hook for $180/pop for a therapist (the same copay barrier that stopped him from getting help in the first place), deadlines for fmla paperwork not getting met, job poised to let him go before disability will be paid.
total write off.
"we do have services to help him get SNAP", but only if he's not living with me, which he must.
it won't break me, it will only make me more angry and disgusted and cold π€. Ears doesn't have that in him, so I will be his rage and his safety net, both.
if he didn't have that net, he'd be broken by this, a system built to break you and keep you that way.
in the face of that, anarchy (chaos) is just nothing left to lose. from where I am standing, nobody (incl the people who work in it) would be worse off if the whole healthcare system burned to the ground.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). In Greek cosmogony, khaos was the gaping space before the formed universe. When you witness a bit of chaos today, think of it not as the dismantling of order or the breakdown of a system but instead as the moment before creation.
VIRGO oracle
Wednesday, September 16, 2026
update - Bru called, the social worker came back - she was actually pissed so she went back at it (!) - now he's getting out Friday, she's trying for Fri like hell - then some patient advocate (of the zillion I've called) stopped by - so yea, that guy Community something will be calling you to come by too
me: okay (theyre all called Community something haha)
now that I know this isn't crushing him - he seems almost bemused at this point - then it stops crushing me. instantly. even if they queef again and it turns into Monday, I'll be fine if he's fine..
but π€ remains and I can tell it'll stay that way, a faceless grudge I'll be holding like hell. I was instinctively allergic to custodial authority but confused by it as well through the various partial stays and whatever and my feelings were/are irrelevant. but this is EARS, my experience is direct and relevant, I am the one on site for this every single day. and I was initially grateful / trusting...
trust is fragile and a punched gut remembers it more each time.
guarded extreme caution flies in the face of the edgy truth-joke. so: dead quiet arts.
verdict: grippysockjail is mostly hell and horseshit.
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| "it's a mandolin" π |
update: Ears weathered it better than I did. he's seen what anything else but "okay" gets you, so when they told him he said "okay" and smiled. then he decided maybe it's because he reads all the time, so he went to 'crafts time' and made me a kindergarten ornamentπ ironically then he took up sudoku in the rec room. when the (good) social worker came to tell him yesterday, he said "her hair was pulled back in a ponytail so tight it's a wonder she could blink," and seemed angry for him and he felt bad for her (as did I, so I just cried quietly and told her it wasn't her fault and hung up).
one person told him maybe Friday, another person told him at least another week, the hall monitor at lunch says he saw discharge papers with Bru's name on today's pile. we don't clock anything as true at all. he says the best approach to not losing it is counting on 6 weeks, so any shorter is gravy. at 6 weels, though, he will have lost his job / insurance. he said the other patients talk about that too, medicaid patients get released fast even if they're nut af, and the insured don't get out until their insurance won't pay anymore or they lose coverage. he shrugs, "I am getting really good at sudoku."
that's good. best he keep his spirits up. I can carry the hate for both of us. they hassled me for my work clothes today, the inmate visit sticker doesn't like to stay on suit jackets might get covered by the lapel blabla, as if they don't me there every fucking day. I stuck it my chest without a word.
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| hurt like duct tape coming off |
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| now it's today. nothing is funny. |
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
crushing ft crushed
now they're keeping him another week. his doc went on vaca, covering doc doesn't know the patients so she "doesn't feel comfortable"
he talked that doctor this morning and told her that he really wanted to get out so he could see his sisters. wrong answer?
any answer is the wrong answer.
they just do whatever the fuck.
all that discharge planning, the mobile transition team scheduled to arrive here thursday at 9 a.m., all that goes in the garbage to start over again or it wasn't real in the first place.
this won't break me, but it is breaking something in me ππ§
Monday, September 14, 2026
Everything changed today, and I don't know why or how. I made a lot of phone calls and pulled a lot of triggers, so π€·π½♀️. Best guesses are the friend of mine who is a patient advocate in Memphis now making phone calls (and offering to fly here, today on a dime), or it was the nurse over the weekend who is not part of that unit normally and who gave me a side eye kinda thumbs up today so it could have been her. I honestly have no idea. The opacity and brutality of this system is gobsmacking, even to me who's been writing grants to fucking make it better for forever.
As of now, the projected date of release for him to me and my custody of care is Wednesday.
I hold my breath a lot.
I hope I do not feel this stone cold forever. But maybe I should.
VIRGO September 14, 2026
Opening up to people who aren’t equipped to handle it rarely goes well. (no shit, hence "okay") And today, that brush-off could tip you straight into fury as the Sun catches a hit from testy Mars. (I will hide all feeling; frankly nobody is entitled to what I'm feeling anymore, that ship sailed.) Dig into what’s actually driving the reaction. (I know all the reasons and do not care any more; frankly, nobody deserves care from me more except the kids/family.) Odds are you’ve been carrying more than your share and nobody’s stepped up to match it. (my sister did.) Rather than boiling over, propose a different arrangement going forward. (Put calls out this morning to hire Ears a patient advocate, they can bitch out another nurse [presumably they have some respect for each other] as soon as I find one for hire.) And before you conclude that you’re “invisible,” try telling people outright that you’d like some recognition. (No.) You’ll probably get more enthusiasm than you bargained for. There’s nothing embarrassing about wanting credit, Virgo, especially since it’s well-deserved! (I don't give a shit.)




































