Two Sentence Updates

After almost 2 weeks of looking for an economical house insurance quote, I finally found one that I can afford.

As it turns out, insuring a century home ain’t as cheap as insuring a 47-year-old condo.

My daughter adopted a cat just over a month ago and he’s been an absolute joy to have in our new home.

His name is Rico, he’s an affectionate, silly and sweet 3-year-old stray that we found through a local rescue group.


I signed up for a free fibromyalgia blood test, the first one ever approved by the FDA and should receive the results sometime in mid-May.

If given the opportunity, I’m entertaining the idea of becoming a participant in the upcoming clinical trials since I figure that I really don’t have anything to lose.

I have birds living in one side of my upstairs wall, they’re getting in through a small, yet decent-sized hole in my vinyl siding.

I don’t want to hire someone to cover it up right now because I love birds and they would die.

I had Orkin come out to spray for bugs and possible mice in my basement, which turned out to be a valid concern.

Birds, I don’t want to harm…but rodents are another thing entirely.

We have a beautiful weeping cherry tree in both our front and back yard.

Unfortunately, the pretty pink flowers only stay for a short period of time.


My view from the front window.

I had a lovely talk with my mom in a dream a couple of nights ago.

I could hear her voice (and laugh) perfectly, smell her cigarette smoke and when I finally woke up, I felt peaceful.

And sadly…

My best friend’s mother passed away yesterday from Covid-19, the last person to become infected in her nursing home wing.

I knew her for 30 years, she was one of the sweetest people that I’ve ever known and my heart is absolutely broken for my friend and the rest of her family.

Please, when you go out in public, wear a mask.

Use hand sanitizer and wash your hands.

No matter where you live, I beg of you to use common sense and continue to practice social distancing.

This virus is insidious and is no fucking joke. It’s foolish to think that it’ll never happen to you or someone that you love.

I Will Not Lose My Shit

I’m moving this Wednesday.

I will not lose my shit.

I will not lose my shit.

I will not lose my shit.

Repeat as necessary.


This is what pure chaos looks like…

Word came yesterday morning that we need to be out of the condo and at the new house by Wednesday, March 4th at 4PM with all of our stuff but only after I emailed him for, you know, a fucking update.

When was he going to contact me? Seriously? I texted him twice on Friday and no reply.

When I get nervous or whatever, I tend to laugh at inappropriate times. He actually said that this isn’t a funny matter, that I need to be ready and be able to take care of everything quick, fast and in a hurry.

My realtor is a certified assweasel (that word seemed to strike a hilarious cord with some of you, so it’s here to stay) and once this is all over with, I’m gonna complain about him to his boss people.

If there’s one thing that really fries my taters, it’s when a man talks down to me like I’m a 5-year-old little girl who won’t stop annoying him. I’m done trying to be pleasant to this man.


Anyway, the movers are scheduled, I was able to start electric service online and I ordered a self install internet kit that I still need to pick up.

Tomorrow, I need to contact the Cleveland water/sewer department and shut that shit off in my name (ex’s last name, actually), then contact my new city and their public utility company.

I can’t transfer my gas company online (damn it) so I guess that I’ll need to call those shitheads as well.

Oh, how I love to make phone calls! It’s, like, my favorite thingy ever.

Meanwhile, I am hastily slowly packing away the last minute stuff, eating the remaining contents of my fridge and throwing even more garbage away.

I will do all of this while pretending that my bones don’t hurt.

Let’s indulge in a classic swear word, shall we?


This is what I’ve been waiting for, what I’ve been dreaming about for so long.


Deep breaths…in and out.

I’ve gone this far, there ain’t no turning back now.

I will not lose my shit.

Oh hell no, I will not lose my shit.

But if I do, I pray that I find my shit again quickly.


“We’re unable to approve your loan right now but we appreciate the opportunity.”

I mumble a thank you and hang up. I sit on my bed and stare out the window at the gray sky.

The guaranteed approval promise is bullshit and I should’ve figured that they’d say no. I have no FICO and no active credit accounts. My debt is under $1,200, mostly medical bills. And my disability income is pitiful.

When you spend almost a decade being treated like and then believing that you’re a waste of a human being, you lose not only your sense of identity but also your creditworthiness.

I go downstairs and tell my daughter, who is busy cleaning out the closet under the stairs, the bad news.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

I shrug and fake my famous I don’t give a fuck smile. I hate her to see me when I get upset, especially when it’s about money.


“Once we get moved into the new house, I’m going to have to find a part-time job. I’m really getting sick of being so broke.”

She stops what she’s doing and stares at me with a worried look on her face.


So simple, just one word.

How can I work when some days I can’t wake up or think straight?

How can I work when I can’t be on my feet for long without needing to sit down to rest?

How can I work when I have a debilitating disease such as fibromyalgia?

“I don’t know. But I have to try.”

She sighs and goes back to what she was doing. I sit on my chair and silently watch her.

Her doctor thinks that she might also have fibromyalgia but B doesn’t want to find out for sure.

Not yet.

Never take your good health for granted.