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Stammering into a different climate did nothing for her torpor yet hopefully the daily blue and white pills alleviated that tragedy. She looked at the work calendar and realized she had absolutely nothing on the docket. It terrified her. She was old. She was broken. She was nuts.
What to do. What to do.
Last night she had dreams of the old bugger. He was his usual whining self braying about some stupid loss of luggage and doing nothing about it. She had been the one who had taken his luggage and Roger in IT was the getaway driver.
She also had dreamt of a great murder mystery plot and upon awaking in the dead of night said "oh at last. I can finally write something and say it came to me in a dream", but then she lost it.
She had lost it a lot. the cat. she thought about that time she had lost it on the poor fucking cat in that tiny hell - before she had gotten used to it. Now, there was no way back - process, ask for forgiveness and strive to not be a cunt. God knows in her life - while she was alive - she wept and begged for forgiveness many many times to that adorable tortie. Even now, the eyes well up. It had always been about fear and money - one $1900 vet visit would wipe her out... but of course with Padz - it had been sheer fucking ignorance. Now she knew better. Would she do better? would she give herself the chance ?
The Isle of Mann was famous for tail-less Manx cats. Not that she wanted one, but she enjoyed the aspect of going to an island and sitting in her croned discontent. It was so refreshing and wonderful though to not get pulled into the crushing dementors. That had been a fekking hard year (may as well get into the vernacular). Thinking of the 'what-ifs' could cause her to freeze. She didn't even know how to enact her dental insurance. The only other time she had used it, it had always come at the recommendation of a co-worker. Now, she was in a strange land with an aching under the crown. Maybe she could start it like this:
Crawling out of bed from the strange dreams, she quickly piled the clothes discarded on the floor back on her body for day two in the foreign kingdom of Mann. why had she done this? everything seemed so pointless, but she was still afraid to stick a knife in her heart and be done with it all. So, there she sat waiting for something to happen - something to which to react boldly and definitively. The habits of a morning exodus of warm liquid then an influx of another warm liquid with a quickening drug ingested - that was something to do. She would have to put her meek smile on and venture outside. Maybe there would be a murder mystery to solve. She had always been intrigued with murder mysteries - like death - why were people so interested in solving them when the living were so ignored.
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