Apparently This Is My Public Journal Now
August 17, 2026 Well, it’s a little after 3 p.m., and I finally managed to get some semblance of sleep. About three hours. Not exactly ideal, but considering I spent most of the night tossing…
August 17, 2026 Well, it’s a little after 3 p.m., and I finally managed to get some semblance of sleep. About three hours. Not exactly ideal, but considering I spent most of the night tossing…
August 17, 2026 This isn’t today’s update. Apparently I’m just full of things I need to write about today. Bear with me because I still haven’t slept and I’m exhausted, but this is important. Hayden…
August 17, 2026, 4:30 a.m. Apparently I’m full of writing tonight. Probably because I’m certainly not full of sleep. It’s almost 4:30 in the morning, and there is a cricket singing somewhere in my mom’s…
August 17, 2026, 2:00 a.m. Of course, of all nights, I can’t fucking sleep. It’s 2 a.m. My stomach hurts because I took my Mounjaro shot earlier, my brain has apparently decided that shutting the…
August 16, 2026, Second Update Well, my day went from bad to worse. I kept walking past my mom’s room and seeing her hospital bag sitting there. It has been there since she died, still…
“The Bag I Couldn’t Unpack” Your hospital bag sat in your room like something that had been told to wait for you, still holding the last pieces of a life that did not know it…
August 16, 2026 It’s 1:35 in the afternoon, and I’m still in bed. I mean, I’m awake. I’m not tired. I’m just not particularly inclined to move. I wanted to go to Dollar Tree today…
Today’s update. I slept in a little bit this morning. I had a rough night with pain thanks to a fibro flare, so when I woke up, I wasn’t feeling particularly great. I eventually managed…
August 14, 2026 Today’s update. I did the basics. I ate, took my meds and took care of Beaker. I also got us both out of the house for a little while. Beaker got his…
“The Silence of Loneliness” The house has learned how to hold its breath. It keeps every room exactly where it was, but there are no familiar voices moving through them anymore. Sometimes I turn my…