I should have taken more pictures like this one. I am putting this up tonight as Mr. Fixit will be here bright and early as he was this morning which kept me from posting. Things go slowly. I am fucked and in the dumps. I'll explain sometime. . . later. For now, in case I can't write in the morning, there is this.
* * *
It seems I have a bit of time this morning before Mr. Fixit arrives.
I am breaking down. There seem no positives in my life right now. My routine has been exploded for over a month. My house is a wreck of construction materials and dust. I spend my days with Mr. Fixit, either gofering or hauling or simply making coffee or getting food. And there are questions I must answer. Too many decisions to make. My health is failing me. I won't go into it. Mentally, I am exhausted. I cannot hold things together much longer. I see no lights at the end of the tunnel. There is only tunnel.
I remember being frivolous. It was fantastic.
I remember being in love.
I read this morning that the number of suicides in a single month in Japan is now greater than the yearly death toll from Covid. I read the article wanting to know the most common form those suicides take, but no such in formation was forthcoming. The article pointed to Covid-19 stress as a major cause, this though Japan has never shut down. The article spoke of social isolation, though. Hmm. More than 23,000 suicides per month in a country of 126,000,000. That's million, not billion.
Well. . . Mr. Fixit lied. He has come early once again, so I must become the company factotum. It is how I exist.