Day 2200

The fun continues

Thank GOD it isn't raining, got my miles, so hey, do your worst-I can handle it.

Funeral Director calls, saying 2 peeps are there asking a million questions. Let that sink in. Have YOU ever gone to a funeral and had the balls to think your input was of any consequence???? PLEASE!

This points to the problem I indicated centuries ago. It never became a wife. It ALWAYS put friends first. These same friends who believed all Its bullshit. NOW, I look like the bad guy because basically, I tell them their input is inappropriate. Worst of all, they have my sons ear. My eventual answer to them: when you pay my sons therapy bills, your opinion will have importance, until then, attend the service and mind your boundaries. Really?????!!!!!

Best of all: the Funeral Director was taken aback. Their response: whotheFUCK are these people???

Irony: It leaves a note and $$$ for Stoney.

It left the house a TOTAL wreck.

Good, let the people who THINK they have a say, see this. Remember, if I touched ANYTHING, I was threatened with legal action.

This pm, did the lawn. Been delaying it since I didn't particularly wanna 1)see where Stoney destroyed my garage door, since It had him convinced I was a prick for locking it. (never mind that I hadda lock it because It fucked with my things. It was a safe zone. Nevermind that I offered to open the garage whenever It wanted. No, better to destroy.)  And 2)Didn't particularly wanna visit the death scene. But, whatthefuck. Grew balls, did what needed to be done. The car in which It escaped? A shipwreck, with barely enough space cleared on the back seat. Amazing S.M.H.

...but I need counseling...............did I placed my pain (for debts self-imposed)  above all others' lives, leaving them to clean up my mess???  In the car, behind the death scene, a plaque: live one day @ a time. S.M.H. NOT retrived from Its personal effects: the engagement ring. Wonder how much It got for it.

S.M.H.

I ran, I'm good.