A Gross Of Days

I installed a countdown app to give me a more realistic idea of how long we have to get packed up and moved into new housing. It’s 144 days.

144 days to make this happen, one way or the other.

How can I do it?


New Year, Who Dis?

2019 was a shitshow.

2020 was a clusterfuck.

2021 was pandemonium.

2022 needs to be something totally different…and it will be.

There will be some pretty big changes coming the way of the Fungeon, including our relocation out west to wherever we can secure a home, preferably a permanent location where we can put down roots. I’m also working on becoming better organized and figuring out how to bring in an income around my duties and the multiple disabilities I have that make my other duties a challenge.

I’m currently waiting on a new therapist, since there’s only so much medicine to make my brain work better can do in the face of extreme trauma. Thank God I’ve got a husband who understands my trauma and doesn’t take it personally when I’m having a rough day.

Today was a good day. My oldest sister and her kids came to visit, and it was an amazing time. I missed Barbara and her brood, and I’m proud of all of them. I also got to meet her middle child’s husband face-to-face, and he actually seems like a pretty decent guy. As long as he’s a good partner to Katie, he’s all right in my book. They are the kind of people who don’t leave me drained when they’re gone, and that’s pretty rare. I miss them already, and I am really looking forward to living closer to them in the next few months.

Seeing that part of my family has really motivated me harder to find a way to bring in income to help us be in the best possible position to buy a home ASAP. I’ve got my artwork, Avon, and I plan to apply for a few things that I can do around taking care of my kids and the house.

I’m water–I’ll find a way.