~Tackling boxes

It just started raining... thunderstorm. It's either that, or my upstairs neighbor is moving something around. I do like the sound of the rain, when it's hitting things like trees or concrete. Tin roofs are not up there in my list of things I like to hear rain hitting. Hurts my ears. I don't have a tin roof. I have a ceiling, and an upstairs neighbor. As long as he doesn't jump up and down, I'm pretty ok with that. So far, so good.

I have a bit of a headache. It's understandable though. After having one of my psycho buttons pushed, yesterday, I drank quite a bit and took some meds. Stayed in bed... passed out, and sleeping off and on, for about 14 hours.

I'm sure I'll feel the fall out of the meds, and of the actual psycho-button pushing, for quite some time... but I'll be ok. I always am. I'm too much of a champion of the underdog to kill myself, and I care too much about other people to kill anyone else. At least, today.

I still have a lot to do in here... unpacking, and creating places to put things. Boxes. Boxes full of memories. That's all most stuff actually is... memories... keys to memories. Memories can be evil. Memories can make it seem like things happened yesterday, when they happened 30 years ago. Memories can be good too, though. They can point out to you when someone is lying, they can remind you of what you said and did, and they can help one pretend they're actually cared for... giving one something to hang onto.

I've got Bunny. When all else fails, I can talk to Bunny. Bunny doesn't lie, he's usually straight-up with me about things. Bunny's still in bed. He thinks that I should just be staring at the NFL channel with him. The season is about to start.