Club Phobia

Anxiety and frustration are running high this morning as I face week two of the unjusted job of hiring a crew to remove the debris pile from the property so I can be on my way to Grand Time. The week long string of failure to connect on any of the e-just options has carried my lonely ache for family to obsessive levels. Starting week two of the effort with no clear focus for the hunt has me feeling like a big city refugee in a small town stereotype. The temptation to just it all and just leave it while I head to Texas is growing. I seem to be the only one bothered by it.

Again, the security light trigger assaults my senses as I attempt to get a grip here in my predawn meditations. Continuing yesterday's mindfulness exercise. I may go for the more standard solution of dropping the blinds. No, I donae like caring for curtains, but the blinds came with the house. They donae block the security lights as effectively as the blackout curtains I use in motels, but their slatted shadows are easier to assimilate than the macabre shadows of the houses, trees, etc., of a populated area.

Yesterday's nutritional intake was greatly improved. Sleep adequate but restless. Dream theme of the night was of defending Persilly from . . . just about everything. Not nightmares, but borderline intense. Persilly slept noisily, also.