Wednesday, Apr. 10, 2024 - 2:03 p.m.

Mom’s car wouldn’t start when she tried to go to the store today. She doesn’t have AAA, but she might and just not remember. She also doesn’t even know if she has insurance at this point. The card was probably in her wallet that was stolen several months ago and so who knows. She probably shouldn’t be driving at this point, but she doesn’t all that often.

If she were to stop driving she’d be reliant on us. There is a medical bus service but it’s not as convenient and she doesn’t tend to use it. Needing us to get her groceries (or take her to the store) every single time would be a complication. We do most of the time, or J does, but when he’s away I don’t tend to, and if we go away all summer like we often do, and are planning to more than every this year what with the memorial services, then what?

Anyway. I took her to the store. She irritated me as much as ever. Layers and layers of irritation. I spend all my energy not shouting, “shut the fuck up!”. Everyone agrees she’s a sweet old lady. And I’m a dick and will live to regret it, maybe. Whatever.

Young people on my FB talking about how they just want to listen to music and sit on the porch with their friends like old people. This is totally attainable for me (well, not the friends part), and yet the thought of it makes me shudder. I wasn’t always like this. I don’t know. All I want is to create, to instantiate, to find my flow in any one of several ways, manic and obsessed, and to collapse unharrassed at the end of every day.

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