Good morning. It’s another Monday morning. I was up before the alarm went off again- both alarms, actually. The early morning visit from the junk removal crew necessitated an additional, earlier alarm. Once they’re done, the very last of the big stuff will be out of house. Wednesday’s trash pickup can’t come quick enough. I happened to look at the page I’d made for The Great Sort the other day. It’s been exactly a year since the day Shawshank was picked up, and almost one year now since I first started sorting things. My optimism at the time was adorable. I wish I still had some of it.
Other than the junk removal crew, I don’t know if I’ll leave the house. I’ll have to check the food supply. I’ve only been buying a few days at a time because I don’t know when I’ll have to LEAVE. I have a workout planned, and I’ll probably do that while Shawshank drives to SlightlyBiggerTown to shop.
As expected, I didn’t hear from my sister yesterday. I don’t understand why none of them will or can stick to a plan. It’s not difficult to say “hey, I know I said it was a slim chance in the first place, but can’t do it today”. I don’t want to harass people to give them a fucking gift or say goodbye. I really wish I could stop caring about some of this family. I’ve already reached that point with my father, but not quite yet with my sister. Every interaction (and lack thereof) leaves me with the same feeling I get when I watch the “Why did he leave me?” episode of The Fresh Prince.
Update: The junk crew left. They actually left about 45 minutes ago. Mal has been in hiding since they pulled up. He’ll turn up eventually. Chaucer is confused again. They took the coffee table, and he’d been using the space under it as a snuggly hiding spot.
When do I get my snuggly hiding spot?
