Friday, September 30, 2022

I don't even know how this came up

 Dear John,

We were watching Abducted in Plain Sight (you would have hated it and turned it off, because these people are unbelievable naive and stupid).  And somehow, S started telling me about the time you were in JC Penney's and your mom wouldn't take you to the bathroom and you ended up pooping your pants.  Then you described walking along, shaking out "rocks" from your pants.  I don't remember you telling this story, but it sounds like something you would have said.  Anyway, we got a good laugh from it.

I was drinking a glass of wine, which seems to have interfered with my vision.  I feel like I don't have binocular vision right now - I can see individually from each eye, but both together don't seem to work.  I wonder if this is how your vision was working at the end.  You complained for a couple years that you couldn't see out of both eyes at once.  I wish the optometrists could have figured it out.

Speaking of which, I have to make appointments for S and me for eye exams.  I tried to make one, and once I had gone through the process with one company, I got an email saying they don't take our insurance.  Sigh.  On to the next place, I guess.  S said she wouldn't mind going back to the lady she saw last year.  I didn't like her, but if S does...I guess I don't mind.

When my sister A was here, we made some headway on organizing the baseball cards.  I'll be continuing to work on them for a while.  I can see why you chose not to deal with them - it would have been very depressing to you to face the lack of return on your investment.  I'm not sure what to expect when I try to sell them, but it will probably be far less than I think today.  Fortunately, one of my online friends (the one you thought was completely full of shit all the time with his Army proclamations (but also felt a little comradery because he is Army) has had some suggestions.  I hope he will be able to hook me up with a decent/honest dealer.  We shall see.




  1. The "rocks" story is funny (and a bit sad).

    I hope you find a good dealer.

  2. I don't even know from where to start. What a terrible thing to befall you! I actually am posting on this post, but my comment is pretty much coming from the back and forth I have been doing on your blog this past forty minutes. So much unravelling to happen. Looks like your daughter is so much your husband. Isn't it exasperating? I read this phrase you wrote about how his anxiety fed his, and this is something I have been telling DH, though he does not take me seriously. He continues to be WFH since 2020, and his entire work yelling and office lamentations are absorbed by the kids. I tell him that he does not realize it, but his anxiety is absorbed by all around him.

    How are you coping? I can see that you are taking it in the flow. Are you seeking therapy too?

    You know how to reach me, in case you want to talk. Please do so. I am pathetic in checking mails, but I do.

    Please take care. Please cut some slack for yourself. I can totally feel it when you describe your daughter. My daughter is just 10, totally pro-Daddy while I get to do all the labour, and will constantly snark at me to cut a lean one for her father.