Someone on the town crew was out with the boom flail mower, mowing on the sides of the road. Ostensibly, it’s to keep the drainage channels clear and to reduce plants from reaching out into the road. Guy mowed my entire front row of ferns, skipped some lilies, then mowed down my flowering and decorative grasses. At one point, he must have lifted the boom to avoid an Iris, but then brought it back down on another flowering grass in the middle of my front gardens. They’ll survive, but my front garden is going to look destroyed for a few weeks at least while they recover.

In more positive news, we had some friends and their son visit on Sunday. My wife took the other ladies around to walk in the gardens at one point while I was cooking - I found out later that we’re part of the inspiration for some folks who are looking to start a sober living space!

Mega contrast of social interactions. Now nearly for 2 months I needed a lot of alone time reflecting and collecting myself after a breakup…

Then this week is suddenly mega full where I’m attending my first career convention, meeting tons of new people at the same time having a blast talking about tech stuff. None of my (IRL) friends are into tech, so it feels nice to talk to someone on the same wavelength there.

Then also this week, looking for apartments, also meeting new people in that scope too…

Then ALSO this week I’m getting visited by 2 friends in the weekend…

Just… oh my god… I guess I’m finally finding myself back on track where things should be. But damn the contrast is so hard I can’t stop smiling both internally and externally

Yesterday my wife and I went to my best friend’s place. Our old friend, a neuroscientist formally pursuing her postdoc in Texas before all science lost its funding is staying with my best friend now. We ate Taco Bell, smoked weed, read Homestuck and cursed the government by candlelight. Is this community building?

So far, so meh. Talked with my mom yesterday and got an update about how my dad is doing in his nursing home. Apparently badly, as he’s been banned from the dining room for spitting up food on his way out and refusing to use a napkin.

Sorta feels like the endgame. In lighter news, mom realized she’d sent half the expected amount to start the month, so I live to eat another day. It’s so weird, being accustomed to having all manner of food in the pantry in a previous life, to realize that there really isn’t anything left.

I turn 46 on Friday, but I have nothing to celebrate.