Panic at the Get-Go
I’m still dreaming a lot lately, which kind of knocked my morning off balance. I had a short panic episode out of nowhere, and just generally had a rough start to the day. Once I made it in to work, everything was fine. Ben, Zach, and Greg were all back from quarantine, so I stopped by the shop before heading to the junior high.
I wasn’t as productive as I probably could have been, but I still got a lot done and never really felt not busy. I ended up working through lunch just to get things done. I was going to take Eaddie to her flute lesson after school, but apparently Summer had already arranged for her mother to take her there and then to the shop when she finished. Instead, I ended the day at the high school to get Autumn. We picked Eaddie up and made it to karate plenty early, so we sat in the car for a few minutes and talked.
When I got back home, I checked in on Bác Vân next door, who seemed to be in good spirits, though annoyed that her in-home physical therapists seemed to be completely pointless. I explained to her that they were probably used to the typical, lethargic patient that wasn’t already doing their own physical therapy on their own time.
Summer came over after work, and we picked up some Arby’s for dinner before she had to get the girls. She said she hit a possum on the way there, so I drove out to make sure it didn’t leave any babies. It took a couple rounds, but I found it on the side of the street, still breathing, but dying and covered in blood. I didn’t have a good way to finish the job, and my stomach wasn’t much up to stomping it to death, so I just left it to die by the curb, feeling pretty sick about it.
I’m all talk.
