And so unlike Grendel, who was so much like a dog, in his behavior.
I cry every night now, and in great part think longingly about death because I’m just so tired of it all. Butch keeps trimming down my o.t. achievements by doing things for me. I’d hoped he’d realize the error of his ways and even asked Judy Siderer to talk to Butch about it, but if she did, it didn't make any impact whatsoever.
I miss Grendel’s friendship every minute of every hour of every day now. I’m trying like hell to love this new cat and I will, Godammit. But,, with G. It was so easy; maybe because we’d both been shit on by life so much. It’s been diarrhea non-stop for me , since G.passed.
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.