It’s different. it has a colorful background and a slightly stoned looking cat.

I’m still doing the painting project. So far I have 40 paintings. Some are okay, some are bad, and others are just plain weird. There’s no particular theme. I’ve probably done more cat paintings than any others because they’re rather easy. No one cares if the cat isn’t realistic. I swear sometimes my own cat doesn’t look realistic. When she sleeps, she’s so calm. But when she’s awake – bitey scratchy thing.

I allowed my son to move back in and his old habits are already coming back. I really wish he could stand on his feet, but there’s something broken. I can’t fix it. All I can do is wait for the crash. sometimes I think I’ll out-live him. As a parent, that makes me sad because I can’t fix his problems. That’s not my job anymore.

Sometimes, I’m ready to raid my stashed liquor, but common sense takes over. When I die and the kids find all the stashed alcohol, they’ll probably think I’m a secret alcoholic. Not so. It’s stashed because it will be drunk by my son very quickly if he finds it. I rarely have a drink and since I’ve been on multiple medications, I don’t want to risk a bad interaction so I abstain.

I guess I’ll start mowing the lawn. My son won’t get to it. I never understand. I have bad knees, brain damage, bad wrists, ankles that give out, and excruciating pain in various other parts, but I manage to get things done because they need to be done. Otherwise, my house would be a hoarder dump, people would avoid me because I would smell bad and look dirty and I’d just be wandering around mumbling.

Oh wait. Parts of my house look like a hoarder dump – I need to finish my re-arranging of the upstairs areas. I smell bad because I had my morning routine disrupted by a trip to the ER and then to the free clinic. And here I am mumbling at you.

So I’ll end here, go do some organizing, mow the lawn while I’m still stinky and then take a shower. And mumble at you another time. Peace and tranquility to you.