“In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Crack-Up”

This is the post that I was working on for Monday when the computer started to act out and then locked up. Nothing. Nada. Had to close everything, clean the hard drive and do a complete scan, all of which meant that there was no more writing for me. Tuesday was leftover crappiness, so no writing. I’m continuing this post for Wednesday.

Sorry about the disjointedness (word?) . . .

“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
‘Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
‘What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
‘I never know what you are thinking. Think.” ~ T. S. Eliot, “The Waste Land”

Monday evening. Humid. Impending rain.

Tillie had another seizure last night. She was next to me on the bed when I noticed her moving frantically. At first I thought that she was chasing a hot spot, but then I realized that she was seizing. That’s the first one that’s happened in front of me in a while. Corey and I held her and spoke quietly to her during the episode, and thankfully, she seemed to come out of this one faster than before. Corey thinks that she is becoming a bit more accustomed to them so that she does not panic. This makes seven total.

It’s so frightening to see and so hard not to panic, but she would sense the panic. We had to get Alfie out of the room because he began to bark frantically, which was not helping things. Shakes hid under the bed until it was over. It’s odd how each dog knows that something is wrong and responds.

Today, we got the wonderful news that our entire tax refund has been gobbled up by a creditor. We aren’t getting a penny, and we owe on our state taxes, which are due at the end of April. That’s how the past few days have been: one bit of bad news after another. As I’ve said too many times before, sometimes, it’s just all too much, which is what leads me to the topic of this post: my daughter, Alexis.

More later. Peace.