I did too much. I washed 5 loads of laundry: mostly blankets.
I worked on my cart today: built a cover out of a flat, metal wire I'd found. It's built sort of like a basket, held together where it crosses with CDs (aol.com, etc). There's mylar garland and mardi gras beads all over it. I hung the fabric from an umbrella up inside, to shade groceries. I'll have Marcos take a digital pic of it.
I'm getting the cart ready first. Tomorrow, I'll fix the flat tire on it.
Then, I'll check the scooter to make sure it's all in good shape and take the wheels off so I can put on new tubes.
I want it all ready, so I can start driving it as soon as possible.
I"ve been crying, off and on, ever since the incident at RB Winning's the other night.
Impotent rage is the worst feeling in the world.
When that kid said, "I don't care," he disappeared me; I no longer existed; nothing about my struggles or talents or experience or pain or courage or anything about my life mattered. It was hideous.
Telling me to "f..." myself was NOTHING compared to "I don't care."
That's the MOST EVIL THING ANYONE can say about a person!
My heart hurts over it. It haunts and torments me.
I want to hurt him. I want to torch the restaurant. I want them to suffer and I want to make them disappear.
I want them to FEEL what they did to me!
It felt just like a beating. JUST like a beating!
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