I hate finding a title

I'm just not that good at it.  I always want something snappy, but you know what?  I can never figure one out.

So, while I'm sitting here trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent post, trying to figure out what I want to say, I've got a million things zipping through my head. 

Have to take Schyler to work.  Want to take a pain pill - fuck, I take too many pain pills (yeah, only one a day, but waaaay too fucking many), how am I going to get that book to Wendy, will I remember to take it when we get together, and when are we getting together?  Shit, I have to go to court on Tuesday, ok, well, that's Tuesday, and I have way to many other things right now.  Are you shitting me???  This neck thing is actually so bad I need surgery!??  Who's going to take care of things?  Damn, I need to write a will.  Don't want to scare the kids, but will make subtle reminders - anything goes wrong - PULL THE DAMN PLUG.  I am not worth going into hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt over.  How am I going to pay the bills?  Will the money get worked out?  Speaking of that - where is that damn money comp owes me??  I'll bet that fucking Carolyn Thomas is STILL holding onto the paperwork, probably hasn't submitted the VA, and that's why I'm still waiting for $$.

That's a tiny fraction of the bullshit going through my head ALL THE TIME.  No wonder I'm so damned tired.  And, this week, my ... FWB.... is away, and phone contact is nearly non-existent.  I miss him - I miss his advice and really bad jokes.  I miss our mundane conversations - especially right now, when I need a distraction.  I'm in my head way too much - I know I shouldn't be, but I am.

I keep wondering if I should find some kind of support group.  I'm incredibly depressed.... despondent, my FWB calls it.  The thoughts are dark and very real.  I'm tired, I'm alone, and I'm overwhelmed.  This is mean, I know, but I can't even rely on my mom.  My brother has prostate cancer, and she's so worried about him, that what's going on with me hasn't really sunk in.  They've caught his cancer very early - so early, in fact, that's he's able to go on his yearly vacation, and will have his prostate removed when he gets back.  I'm relieved they caught it early, and hope that when the prostate is removed, all will be well.  I'm sure it will be.  I would call, and tell him so, but a) he's away on vacation, and b) we don't talk.  I'll save the whole family dynamic for another time.

Right now, I have to wrap up.  Only a few minutes till I take Schy to work.  Think I'll get some fresh corn on the way home.  We got propane for the grill yesterday, and I've defrosted a small steak.  So, steak, fresh corn, tomatoes, maybe some french fries.  We'll see - it's so blessed humid that my appetite could evaporate by the time I get back from taking Schy to work.