In a black hole of depression, that’s where. After “The Road Trip From (To) Hell”, I just kept getting more and more stressed. When that happens, I shut down. To add frosting to the crap cake my life became, my son moved in with me because he quit his job – the tavern he worked at closed its doors a month later – and lost his apartment (included with his job) and wound up, after a bitter battle with his daughter’s mother with whom he had been staying, homeless.

He did find a new job, but his start date kept getting pushed back and of course with no income, he needed to borrow (read – be gifted) money just until he started. He did eventually start his job. He was driving my old car to and from work. He offered $200 for it and then promptly traded it in for a car he can’t afford. His justification was he quit smoking and that the $300 a month he was spending on cigarettes would fund the car payments. Lies.

At least he likes this job. No more cooking. He has benefits! He’s never before had health insurance, and dental insurance, and sick leave, and vacation! Wow! Other than having a Covid scare, he hasn’t missed work or called in hungover. Even better, he’s not living with me.

I thought I was holding it together fairly well, until I totally lost my cool while giving a tour to strangers and potential members of the maker space I belong to. I then decided to take some alone time and not interact with too many people. So far it’s been working. I’m better. I got my sleep re-regulated so I now get longer unbroken hours of sleep. I’m not spending my days dozing on the couch.

Hopefully, I will post more regularly. I’m sorry for having gotten your hopes up last summer when I said I would post more regularly. Thank you for your patience.