Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, A Blessed Channuka and Good Kwanzaa, or whatever floats your boat..

jujube

jujube

SF VIP
Location
I think I'm in Florida, but I'm not sure any more.
My friends, I wish you the best of the season, however it is or isn't that you celebrate it.

I'm leaving tomorrow at o'dark thirty for the chilly Upper South and won't have wi-fi unless I sneak out to McDonalds. As I just looked at the suitcase that's been sitting on the guestroom bed for the past three days and still only holds six pairs of underpants, one pair of socks and a belt that I can't figure how it got in there, it's time that I bite the bullet and start packing or I'll be rockin' around the Christmas tree in my birthday suit.

Blessings to all and I'll "see" you again on the 27th!
 

I'm packed! The car is loaded! The sandwiches are made! The holidays officially start in about six hours and I can guarantee about fourteen hours after that, I will be ready to hop a plane, train or Greyhound bus home. I am truly and sincerely NOT looking forward the next ten days. Next year I'm going to Afghanistan or Iraq or maybe Chechnya.
 
It's been the pits. I'm at Mickey D's right now to use the internet. It's the high point of the last week.....I may move in here....the booth is quite comfortable. I'm flying home on Christmas day. There is absolutely nothing I can do here any further. The boyfriend's mother has to go into a nursing home whether she needs it or not and, of course, there's no money (picture $8000 a month). We had to call the ambulance at 3:00 a.m. about six hours after we got in. She would only stay in the hospital for two days, and you need three days to get Medicare to pay for a nursing home/rehab for the first month or so. Sooo, the house has to be sold (OVER HER DEAD BODY!!!) to pay for the nursing home. If she goes on Medicaid, they take the house anyway. The house needs work finished.....there are still open construction permits, so the house can't be put up for sale until the permits are closed and all inspections passed. Back story: last year her daughter died and we found out that she had completely gone through the mother's money (to the tune of almost $400,000).

The "boys" don't want her to be "unhappy" and as long as I am here wiping bums, giving injections, and getting up at least three times a night, the "boys" can't make a decision on it. It's not my circus, not my monkeys.....I'm finished.
 

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