weeping willow baby

Bug oddly loves the 1970s XM channel, we drive around listening to Butterknife tunes and scooping up trees (and now bushes) marked down to nuthin, and watch the yard take shape through birdseyes

Monday, drs allll day, no Fish Place yet. paperwork. he is expected to return to work next Mon. he has dr appts all day, at which he said today that he would rather kill himself than return. so. how's that supposed to work? dunno. if he just doesn't show, he owes them a ton of money somehow. so, another dr tomorrow. "please god let this be over" over and over

he put a door where there was no door like jesus or whatever - I care about it so I want to see it 

driving Ears to drs, running around between choreschores, I say I wish I wasn't usually right when I get that "something bad" feeling and I wish y'all wouldn't shut up only then. I spend half my time thinking shut up and the other half thinking uh oh too quiet, it's kinda grit in the buttcrack of my brain. "I'll bet," he says, then falls silent some more.