Dang msbelle...I wish you lived closer - I'd set you loose on my place.

At least five pages to write before midnight. Ugh. The brain just isn't cooperating.

my place is still a mess. clothes drying on a rack in my un-vacuumed living room. also a dog kennel in the middle of said living room that needs to go to garage, also 4 bags of stuff to go through, and 2 boxes of papers.

msbelle, you just inspired me to do the dishes that have been sitting in my sink because they can't go in the dishwasher.

woohoo! yay us doing dishes. well I still have one sink full cause I cooked more, but hey I did some.

now bed.

Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck 2018, fuck cancer. At Popou's house for our usual Sunday visit when my baby brother called our dad from Korea (tech work for the satellite feed for the Olympics) to tell him that he'll be heading back to CT this coming weekend, and not to worry too much but he has a plasma cancer issue called smoldering myeloma, a slow-incubating precursor to multiple myeloma, and the doctor said he could wait until after the Olympics to come home and start treatment but he decided to start right away.

The story he told about how it was diagnosed didn't add up when I looked it up on the Mayo and Johns Hopkins websites, but I kept that to myself until just now, when my mom and I had a long talk.

He told a gentle fiction to our dad. He has in fact been pre-cancerous for a couple of years, known it and been monitored regularly and told no one but his husband. This isn't smoldering, it's active multiple myeloma. My mom is flying back to CT a couple of days after he gets there to be with him for the first round. And I want to smash something, but there's nothing to smash.

I'm so sorry, JZ.

Fuck, JZ. I'm so sorry.

——————

Consuela, you are my hero!

Oh JZ, how shitty. I hope there are good treatments that will help him

Friend finally managed to get the safe open, but basically there's not a lot left she can take away from him, and trying to get him to do work to pay it back is unlikely as well. He's sometimes fine—hung out with a few of us playing a board game and eating dinner, this evening—but just does not get consequences. I asked what he would've thought would happen if he got the safe open—he didn't but she obviously would've noticed! She was like "he would've felt justified and been like "hah, I have my phone now and you can't get it from me". So tough. They're starting a new program for him and hoping it works. I just worry that he's getting older and bigger, and if he gets in any real trouble outside of home, he's likely to end up shot or something. I know she worries too.

Oh, JZ. I am sorry.