Balls. (FFOT)

I've still not got my kitchen back.  I think we may have to go with a different electrician.  I really, really need my dishwasher.  This is not on.  It's been a month. 

I found out the hard way that I can't tolerate quinine.  I made myself a cocktail with tonic water, and reacted badly to it.  Bad, bad side effects that lasted for more than 24 hours (although the worst was only about 12 hours.  I am...disappointed...by this.  Because a glass mostly full of ice and tonic with a shot of Kracken and a little bit of lime is damn tasty.  And refreshing when it's so stupidly hot and heavily humid as it's been recently.  

My imp's school specified a 1" binder for each class.  We...tried that.  It didn't work.  So didn't work.  Five binders, plus books for classes equals overwhelming for any kid, but neurotypical kids adapt and organize fairly quickly and with varying degrees of well.  Not so much with a neurodivergent kid (like mine, with ADHD).  What we are doing instead is simple: everything goes into a 3" binder with a shoulder-strap.  The classes are divided out by a folder that matches the color we used on his class schedule.  I need to simplify his schedule, too--it's cluttered and confusing for him.  He still doesn't have it memorized, after two full weeks.  

The housework is...in need of attention.  I am trying to keep things picked up off the floor so that I can justify getting a self-emptying robot vacuum.  I can't keep up with the picking up and the sweeping/vacuuming.  Especially not with having to do dishes by hand (even the few that can't be disposables).  

Stress.  Stress sucks.  Especially when you can't stop worrying about things you can't do anything about.  Not because it's national, but because the things you are worrying about aren't things, but the people in your life that you can't do anything to help, either because they fight you on it, ignore you on it, or you've flat given up on trying because they sabotage it.  Stress brings on extra inflammation, and eats energy, and one bad thing about a multitasking brain is that, even when I'm doing something else, I'm still worrying.  Because one track of my brain is still able to focus on that (and does) even when I've got all the others working on something else.  

I have two more weeks before I can get back into my fucking hotmail account.  Two weeks ago, it told me I had to update my security or else.  And then booted me out.  And when I signed in, it told me to input a code from a text.  Sent to my home phone number which doesn't receive texts.  I gave the fucker an alternate email address to send the code to, and it let me in just long enough to input the code from that, then booted me out again, and said I couldn't sign back in until 9/11.  Everything goes to that email addy.  Everything.  Because it's the one I've used for everything since I got married in 2004.  

Dusty Hill died.  So did Charlie Watts.  Yes, I know they were on the older side, especially for rock stars, but damn.  Two of the greats.  I am dreading who's going next.  C'mon, Death, take one of the pop tarts that can't sing or play instead of the greats, this time.  It's been a hell of a month, and I need a fucking break.