Today's t-shirt makes me laugh. PJ brought it back from LA for me. It's got a cartoon drawing of a UFO on the front and a speech bubble that says GET IN, LOSER.
I feel like it's meant for me.
Today's breakfast was a handful of pills and oatmeal, black coffee, a badly bruised banana (fuck you, Superstore for your shitty produce) and a multivitamin. Today's lunch was uh, crackers and dinner was a fried egg sandwich with farm bacon from a place in the valley that cuts their bacon so thick I stopped calling it bacon and started calling it steakon. They know what I mean!
(GET IN, LOSER.)
It's cheap considering it's practically the whole hind leg of a pig in one package. Like fourteen dollars and it feeds eight people, easily. We also bought pepperoni and some aged cheddar but that won't last long.
I am sober, if you're wondering.
People say I sound gagged. Like legally or threatened-of-bodily-harm but honestly since Caleb behaves and I am now boring there isn't much to write about save for Lochlan's blissful contentment. His dreams are coming true. Caleb's not evil, I'm not stubborn. Ben isn't scary anymore and Cole and Jake are dead,
It's perfect.
I mean it is. We took the money and ran as far away as we could from the circus and the side show too, the midway is a distant sticky, sweaty memory and the music still winds around and between us but we're still here. I'm still here. He still puts up with me. The ghosts haven't gotten me yet but neither have the aliens.
I'd rather be a loser than a memory. I said that to Loch from my side of the hot tub earlier and he laughed out loud and said Same.