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samcrut.bsky.social
Film editor, audio eng, general technologist, Alzheimer's caregiver, tech author, and future screenwriter. 2006 Time Magazine PotY. BSKY#1,040,838 [Please, 🚫Starter Packs]
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oh my god it's literally alien vs. predator

JD Vance crying in the wood paneled rumpus room thinking the divorce is his fault.

If I didn't know any better, I'd think the Tesla board of directors must have cashed out today. TSLA down a full $50/share and still falling in after hours trading right now. If it gets down to $235, I think that's where my payday starts to blow up.

Glad I won't have to listen to UT Southwestern's over-modulated hold music anymore. One last call to close out mom's accounts.

It's odd how Elon didn't care about the damage he was doing to the country, right up until he discovered they were killing all of the Tesla tax credits and incentives, then suddenly he's all trying to be a man of the people. We haven't forgotten getting burned a few weeks ago asshat. Grind him out.

Nothing feels "normal" yet, but I can feel it changing, very slowly. Anxiety? Yeah. Got that annoying noise buzzing in the back of my head, but I don't really have anything to be anxious about so I'm just going to call it paranoia. Waiting for it to burn itself out. I got no use for that.

Was just looking up bass shakers. They're subwoofers that you mount to the chair and it makes your seat shake with the bass rumble. Halfway down the page I see:

Bought mom a bidet toilet seat in the pandemic. Hooked it up and she used it the one time I made her press the button and declared the whole thing to be rude and she never used it again. Now it doesn't squirt. The mechanism to get water flowing is stuck. Trying to get the energy to take it apart.

Friend at the funeral mentioned that he still likes to "eat like Crutsingers." That's 1.5" thick steak, served with a baked potato, and, very specifically. LeSeur Peas. It's still my goto meal when having guests, but the steak is much better prepared now. I'm a better cook than mom, & cheaper peas.

Looked in the mirror today and spotted a new shadow on my cheek. My facial features are morphing. I hope my skin all shrinks with my weight loss. Don't wanna get wrinkly. TPSD silver lining, cheaper than GLP jabbing. If I stare at that long enough, my brain says it's not my face.

Wow. Brought the flowers in from the car where I forgot about them in the back seat, and the smell just hit my bedroom. That's some powerful smell. That or my senses are still normalizing. Seriously, it's like Terry Crews is screaming into my nose, "FLOWERS! SMELL IT!!!! AAAGH!!"

Working with mom's landscaper to pick out a tree for the front yard. We have green covered, and a red Japanese maple, so I want a tree that blooms in blue or purple. Something fancy looking. Wisteria maybe.

I may have slow cooked the pork chop too long. It flaked like salmon. With a little fork work it would have been pulled pork.

Audio sensitivity is still cranked in my head. Doing the dishes sounds like grenades going off in a glass shop. So much tinking and clanging! Time heals. Great. Where's the fast forward button?

Weight's down to 230.0 now. Just can't seem to get that .1 to break into the 220s. We'll see if the anxiety release now gets my brain to stop burning calories like a blast furnace.

Feeling better today. Ironically, for me, it's not the funeral that provided closure, but simply getting past the mandatory social convention of having a funeral at all that put the most stress on me. Funerals are for the living, but not for all of us. It was good to see old friends, but...[shudder]

It's time to figure out how I'm going to proceed with the rest of my life, and my first decision is that I'm taking the rest of the day off.

Mom's funeral was nice, as funerals go. Lots of her friends, former employees, and former students. When we had dad's service it was Winter and I remember the wind and the cold. Well this time it was 100°, but a breezy hundred. Need to rehydrate. Water's come out of everywhere it can

One of my nephews was going through the house to pick out mementos of mom to keep. A few Xmas ornaments, a few pictures, stuff like that. We got to this one closet and I said "The only thing worth wanting in there is a very old family bible." Pulled it out and it's 1873 or something. "WANT!" "No."

Finally burying mom tomorrow. Then I can start my life again. Or at least start walking in the direction I've been putting off for so many years. No shortage of anxiety bubbling. About tomorrow, not the time after. I can't stand funerals. That goes 100x for sympathy and condolences non-stop.