I don't know where to start recapping this day. I don't want to start at all because I want it over like so many others of late. But I want to capture it because it has been pretty full and somewhat eventful. Lucky's presence continues to keep me awake throughout the night with either his noises (smacking, reverse snoring, or seemingly rising and moving around. It's the last that's a trigger for me because I'm waiting for the sound of pee or the smell of poop. When he wakes up, he rises and 'shakes' like a dog exiting a lake. I awaken to the rattle of his collar. I am now habitually trained to arise at that sound, open the back door, and let him out. It's a reverse Pavlovian response. And it happens frequently enough that I'm seldom sleeping deeply, as I am always anticipating the call to action. I tried catching up to lost sleep, and when I finally got up, I realized I'd screwed myself out of being ready for my bi-weekly sprint planning meeting. I have things I need to do in advance that I'd no time to do. Scottie still required walking, and we ran into Larry on his walk and chatted with him for quite a while. I'm glad we did. He's an interesting and good-natured guy, and we both like the time we spend talking with him, but it did add to my stress to be further delayed. Scottie's leg issues seemed to be getting better, but more on that later. Once back, I set about getting ready for my meeting from the patio, but Jen had a meeting then too, so I figured I'd move to the dining room table. Tommy was there. I set up my computer, told him twice I was joining a meeting, connected to my meeting with a bunch of my team present, and while muted, asked him to turn his sound down. He said it was already down. I replied that I could still hear it through my AirPods. He retorted that going any lower would mean he could not hear it. I reiterated that I'm trying to run a meeting, and he scoffed, "why do you need to do it here, anyway?" when he knows full well we have limited space, and he should have been in an online class in his room, anyway. I left my call, sent a "brb" message, packed up my stuff, and moved to the bedroom. I let him know how angry I was, swore at him too, and once in my room, I realized I was cracking from the pressure. I bailed on the call, said I'd return ASAP, took my keys, took my car, and left. After driving about, I decided I'd get the CRV checked out. There have been some knocking noises of late, and it's been concerning. I avoided taking his calls and endured his mean, manipulative, entitled texts. I sat in that waiting room lobby all day. Around 1/2 of the way through the day, they said they couldn't find the issue, and we drove it around, and I pointed out the concern. It turns out it's the sway bar, and at that stage in the day, it was too late to get it fixed. I continued working. I contacted Geico and worked some angles to get his insurance down to just $110/month instead of $350+. It took a lot of effort. I emailed him about it with the details and later learned that he told Jen about it. But he didn't express a single bit of gratitude to me, just like his mom. I suggested that Jen grab a bottle of white, pick me up at the end of her workday, and we'd spend the evening visiting my mom instead of being in the house. After that was suggested and accepted, she alerted me that the dog's leg issues were back. So I contacted Acadia, and they said the earliest option was Thursday. Jen picked me up, and I texted Eric, and moments later, we got a call saying, 'bring him in. In parallel, I heard from Kathy after what sounds like a full day of very strained time with Linda. They had issues with her caregiver trying to sit in her room all night and wanted a better setup, and she was trying to get a recliner chair. I threw a slew of options and suggestions, and she ended up going to Big Lots and calling me at my mom's about if buying it was the right idea. I reiterated my prior recommendations but said it was her call to make. She bought it. They took it to panorama, and then they dragged it through the entire new flooring, less than two weeks old, leaving long scratches all the way there. I'm furious because things are being done out of panic, stress, and urgency. Nobody's thinking anything through. Kathy leaves Saturday. My son, the one who was so devastated about the news, the one that just returned from Reno, is going to Tahoe Friday through Tuesday. Lauren works Saturday 10-2 and Sunday 10-6. There's nobody to attend to Linda. She's becoming overwhelmed with anxiety due to the most recent appointment and the realities laid forth about radiation. She's in free fall as reality settles in. Just like we all went through when her diagnosis was first given to us. She's heading down that same path. With her sister leaving Saturday, there's no clear plan on who will attend to her needs, and she will feel all the more anxiety. Lauren should not be doing this. It's completely unreasonable to expect she would take on being her mom's caregiver, let alone that it be allowed to compromise her school or her work. Kathy said she'd get 24x7 coverage lined up, but that's still subject to oversight. it's a complete clusterfuck, and with Kathy saying, "sorry, I can't do this anymore" and heading home to Tucson, it's going to get pretty ugly unless there are some backup plans in place. Anyway, we did drop the dog at Eric's clinic, we did get Aqui and did get to my mom's and did get through a few glasses of wine and some deep dive updates. We picked up Scottie at 7. he's going to need ~$7k worth of knee surgery that can't get scheduled for weeks. My car repairs will be done tomorrow and cost over $1700. Our best-case scenario for our taxes is paying over $8k. So in the next couple of weeks, we will fully deplete what little savings we have managed to stash away over the past few years while I've been supporting two households. Yet somehow, I'm supposed to wake up tomorrow with a dying ex-wife being left for my daughter to care for, an unexpectedly high car repair bill, an ungrateful son who doesn't deserve to drive my car (yet I will let him just because if I don't he'll poison our home with his presence and cruel nature like that twilight zone episode with Billy Mummy), a dog I love that hops and whimpers in pain, and I am expected to try and be productive at work and to have a positive attitude. I know it could be worse. I could be facing chemo, radiation, and death. At least I'd have a timeline to work with. As I wrote when I replied to Melissa's text about her medical struggles, Life is like a day spent at Disneyland. It's filled with ups and downs, a few great rides, lots of waiting, and lots to see and enjoy everywhere you look as you do. That day also ends. The park closes, and you take the memories with you.