I no longer have a ten foot long hole in my wall. So I got that going for me.
(Plumbing that doesn’t leak: Good. Cat locked in bathroom for 3 days: Bad. Seeing the debris from the last time the wall was opened lazily dumped in the space behind the wall: Bonus.)

That’s it. I am officially not going to have fun any more. Fuck it. In the middle of Dragon*Con, I got a call telling me my mother had been taken to the hospital. If she’d waited 30 minutes more, she coulda died. But by the time I got the call, she’d been stabilized. And lets not forget that after 3 great trips with friends and family, all in one month, I get the shit kicked out of me by a condition I should not have and doctors can’t explain. And while I’m cooking Thanksgiving dinner for friends, I get a call telling me that my father had been taken to the hospital the night before, also on death’s door. (Again, stabilized and in ICU by the time they called). So no more fun for me, ’cause all it means is some bad shit is gonna happen.
I wish I could really be that dramatic.
Yes all those things sucked beyond belief. But for better or worse, I handle that kind of crap with relative calmness. I didn’t fly off the handle, because what good would it do. I didn’t hop the next plane to home, because each time I heard, it was already past the tensest hours. And each time, I was literally surrounded by friends, doing something that made me feel good. That’s what I really needed. (And most of you are out there. So… thank you and stuff.)
But holy fuck, if anyone out there is listening: I really don’t need anything more right now.