insomnia sucks

My brain will not slow down. My brain will not stop being mean to me. If I could hate and abuse myself into being a better person, I would have been perfect long ago. and yet my brain will still not stop. Even as I use the same abusive brain to tell myself it's pointless and unhelpful to be so fucking mean to myself all the time. So frustrating. just turn off. Let me get away from you for a few goddamned hours, you mean thing.

I am far too aware of current events and those echoes from past history that seem apparent. I can't understand anyone who still thinks this presidency is doing anything good for anyone.

Housemate Sam had been having anxious stuff because her car's 'check engine' light came on. She asked who my mechanic is, but I take my car to a specialty mechanic that only works on european cars, and she's got a Toyota. So I helped her find a mechanic and get that taken care of today. Car should be fixed and ready tomorrow. Hoping a newly repaired and trustworthy vehicle will give her a better sense of freedom and self sufficiency for whatever next steps in her life may be. 

I have been trying to have a daily routine, with a focus on cleaning one particular room of the house each day - monday is plan menu and grocery, tuesday is kitchen and dining room, etc. trying to get up at the same time daily, have the dogs in a good walking and feeding routine, be consistent in job hunting,etc.  I was getting to the pool pretty regularly but haven't been good about that since the pool near the house closed. driving back and forth to the next closest one is kind of annoying. But i have to do something....i gotta climb a stupid rock in 3 weeks and I don't' want to die of a heart attack or wuss out halfway there because I'm not physically capable of it. argh. (puts me in mind of a line from a Nick Cave song: 

There comes a time
 when you just
 cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a
stone cold truth.

Took my cousin B's dog back over to my aunt and uncle's house, we had been dogsitting while he's out of town and he was due back in late tonight, so my aunt figured it'd be nice for him to have his dog to come home to....

job hunt continues. Had an interview yesterday, it was short and strange. No possibility of permanent, no particular duration, work from home after 6-8 weeks of training, but they don't issue you equipment, you have to use your own. WTF. I don't think I'll take it if it's offered.

kept seeing these poems on facebook. They were relatable, so I bought the book (well, kindle version anyway)

Mom's memorial service is coming up, and then we scatter her and stepdad's ashes from the top of Enchanted Rock.  I wasn't feeling much about that but now I am getting into grieving the parenting I didn't get. Not her as a person, per se, just the whole fuckin thing.  I'm glad I didn't have kids. One of her poems says something about breaking cycles, even when it breaks you. And yep...broken is about how I feel. And what the fuck is the point of any of that.  I don't think I'll have anything much to say at mom's memorial service, but maybe I'll have them play this Sinead O'Connor song. 

It's weird having thoughts and feelings and wondering if this is just something that everyone feels when they get to this age, or is it my particular circumstances, or is it just current events and the world that make me feel this way.

As with the 10 thousand year Babylonian clay tablets about 'kids these days' and their weird music and slovenly habits and disrespect for elders, I suspect my condition is the human condition and as with those ancient folks, my troubles will be over soon enough and I'll be dead and damned and dust with the Babylonians so it's really hardly worth mentioning or thinking about or doing anything about. Time will solve it all, eventually, one way or another. No urgency for the grave, I'll be getting there at some point.