save your sanity for later.

panda's mother died. My heart breaks for her. She's grieving. I don't want to call her or show up because I want to respect that she's also upset with me about unrelated things. But what horrible timing I have.

---

I'm seeing a new psychiatrist today. 90 minutes of appointment hell. They will judge me. I'm updating the timeline of my life that I made for my last therapist-agency-change. That particular therapist glanced at it once and never again.

It continues to snow. Cold. Bitter. Josh argues with me about going to bed instead of editing word documents and wondering whether I should take off my nail polish.

Nail polish off: can re-do nails, can keep nails naked, looks cleaner than chipped polish. But—— chipped polish may convey that no matter how well I present myself I'm not all there.

It's a thing. It's not a thing that makes sense, but it's a thing.

Most annoying thing about semi-long-distance-relationship involving visiting someone else for multiple days nearly every week?

No, it's not the dreaded LDR UTI (all praise be to FSM).

It's actually two things that lead towards the same thing:

I don't know where my meds are, my clothes are, or my toiletries are at any given time.

I feel weird whenever I'm not around Josh OR when I'm not around my computer.

Which leads to the base idea, I think:

I have no idea where home is anymore.

---

On a side note, my mother is convinced that she's anonymous in her facebook posts where she has put words on pictures she took.

I don't have the heart to tell her about EXIF data.*

*(Although running a quick scan on multiple pictures that I recognize [i.e. she must have taken] suggests that facebook may strip it, or her phone is not inputting location data, or the programs she's running them through strip it, praise FSM.)

---

uh, in other news... Josh's accident totalled his vehicle, he's still fine but maybe some cracked ribs, he's buying my dad's extra car (that's a decently long story involving a Mercedes and my father's amazing impulsive shopping ability, wait, no, that pretty much covers it).

So I was going to drive back to Middle of Nowhere tomorrow, after having left yesterday, to drop off the new car and uh, teach Josh how to drive manual. Yes. He doesn't know how. It's okay, we all have to learn sometime. Ideally maybe not when we're buying a car that's manual, but hey, that's how I learned.

Yeah, so as I'm busily psyching myself up for that experience which is undoubtedly going to be fun and games the entire time, panda reminded me that she had prior claim to my physical presence (and a more important one, to boot) and... now I'm all confused and feeling bad that I'm letting BOTH of them down somehow, panda by not remembering her VERY IMPORTANT prior claim and Josh by not being able to magically be in two places at once.

(Plus Josh was asleep when I called to let him know so the conversation took 5 minutes and it's even odds whether he actually remembers 'discussing' it, though to be fair there wasn't much to discuss.)

So anyway.... When my head literally explodes from overthinking everything and/or blaming myself for 99.9% of everything that isn't actually under my control in any way——I knew it would happen, I'm just saying.

Also if I'm getting a migraine right now like it feels like I may just start praying for my head to explode and save the wait, really.

People, this is a public service announcement: do not blindly agree to go shopping with panda unless you are hardc0re. More hardcore than me, that's for sure.

She was like "oh, we're only going to go to a few stores, it'll be okay." After I agreed, I found out that we were going to shop for shoes, bras (at Victoria's Secret, where they look at me like I'm insulting them by being too fat [and awesome!] to shop there), and then we were going to hang around Target testing out lotions for possible smells that remained non-offensive for hours...

until panda's blood sugar crashed and I had to enter Mom Mode to get her safely out of the store when she probably would've remained there, wandering into things until she fainted or started eating out of random bags in the grocery section.

All I can say here is three things:

a) thank god I was the one driving, as my blood sugar remained fine.
b) panda: START CARRYING EMERGENCY TRAIL MIX OR SOME SHIT SIMILAR TO THIS, WOMAN. Also, if I think you're being suspiciously cranky, this may not be due to the activity in question or even the fact that me, your BFF, retains the ability to severely annoy——it could be an early warning sign that you're cruising for a crash.
c) Bra sizing for non-plus size women appears to be SHENANIGANS. I was completely unaware of this, because I had my first decent bra fitting at Lane Bryant (link goes to video explaining how to measure yourself for a decent bra size estimate), which oftentimes carries dowdy clothes but they know their boobs, people!

When panda tried to explain to me this whole "band size + four inches" bullshit, I did not believe her, because hello, the band size is your rib cage measurement. Why are you adding four inches?! What does this accomplish, besides confusion and WOE and HOOLIGANISM as bras with this weird-ass band size wild-guesstimation would be utterly misused, uncomfortable and completely impossible to wear normally!?

I can only conclude that this is a vast conspiracy to gaslight most women into believing that bras are evil instruments of torture that never fit properly. I'm not even sure I'm being a conspiracy theorist here, because what other fucking purpose does it serve to try to convince generations of women that a band which goes around your rib cage does not actually use the measurement OF THE CIRCUMFERENCE OF YOUR RIB CAGE?