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The entire week has been fucked up. Had an appraiser come for my husband's Lionel train collection and partially built layouts. Took hours of emptying a large closet and clearing a path in the new basement, which later left me in such sadness I just sat and cried, for who he once was and what never happened. Catalogues with items circled that he never ordered. A man's dreams during retirement cut short; a young boy's connection to a father who died at age forty.

Met with budding handyman who is related but fucked up $5000 worth of work while we were on vacation. Lesson learned, on my part, although not on his. The cost for inexperience, trust, and the details, the fucking details. I calmly explained the things he needed to correct, knowing he would be defensive. Totally threw him off spontaneously hugging him and saying basically we all were thrilled by the changes, which was true.

Niece came to town and took my mother to PCP, which I had discussed with both my sister and my Mom, then received a text saying my mother made the appointment, but upon arrival, it was the wrong day. Niece didn't know the protocol so essentially a wasted visit, during a drenching thunderstorm. My mother, on an empty O2 canister.

Cardiologist appointment determined husband needs O2 also. We left, feeling hopeful. Hopes were dashed quickly by Medicare and O2 supplier. Same fucking company that is inept at mother's assisted living. Fucking paperwork is stressing me and two people I love and their ability TO FUCKING BREATHE.

Awaiting bloodwork after fucking tick bite to see if the nymph carried Lyme disease; mammogram is approaching; daughter's husband's National Guard Annual Training extended to four weeks; husband thinks it's April and couldn't remember who the President is.


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