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So Nikki's back has been out for a while now, so I dragged him strait to the doctor Friday, based on the pain response from limb manipulation test, they think at this point it's an inflammation problem rather than an injury from all the physical labor we've been doing. (I'm sore as anything too, but I still have full flexibility and only sore-pain not crazy pain like after the surgery I had or what he's feeling so I'm sure I'm just tired) and they gave us anti-inflammatory pills that are helping. And new doctor reassured me a bit that maybe this relationship will work out because she addressed on her own that the pills and his antidepressents are contraindicated for each other, but he's not going to be on the new stuff long enough to run into trouble so not to worry without us having to ask or see the warnings. These days a doctor who is paying attention to what medications you are taking and how they mix is great, so many have stopped. We start driving Friday, and board the ship Sunday. I'm so tired, stressed out, trying to figure out how to proceed forward in the best way, I need this vacation. I had a weird breakdown over trying to pack. Simply the act of deciding what clothing to take was the last raindrop that burst the dam, but there is so much going on right now internally and externally that I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Like I told my friend recently, you feel what you feel, it doesn't go away even if you don't act on it, and you do have to deal with those feelings. So taking my own advice and trying to sort through it all. A reminder that no matter how good you have it there are things that harm you. I know I have a good life, I do, but still, there are ugly things trying to claw my eyes out. And when people say "I wish my life was as simple as yours!" it's a trap you can start to fall into and forget that your life isn't really so simple. I just keep a lot of internally irl, I don't talk about things nearly as much as I do here, and aside from coming to learn about transgender, I have also come to learn a great deal about the safe space concept and it's real world emotional applications here. Good lesson. So I try to make my home and interactions with others safe space. So getting to know my paternal aunt a bit better, we've been talking on Facebook a lot, and at first she was trying to fix things between me and my dad, but as time goes on she's coming to understand what happened and that it can't be. She just got back from a visit with him, and his 70-something pound german shepard just bit her, and instead of controlling the dog or correcting it, Dad just stood there laughing about it. And when she was rightfully upset, he did the whole "Roscoe wants you to know he's a scared little being in a world he doesn't understand, and he can't help his feelings". Really? No one is challenging the dog, and as usual, Mr You have to take responsibility refused to take any for his responsibility to properly control and handle his pooch. It's a beautiful dog, and I don't really want to see that poor thing put down because my dad is stupid about his dogs. And then it became 'you're obviously an unhappy person, and we'll pray for you!" when she refused to just brush it off and left. Which is really sad, because my Dad made so much fun of my poor grandma for saying things like that. I didn't really want to be involved in that conversation, but she was worried I needed to know about the dog and the issue. I already knew, same thing happened when I was younger, to both her and me. She'd forgotten about that, and it was her aha moment, that she really didn't understand the dynamic between dad and me was a lifetime of things, and calling my kid and me stupid was just the final thing that made me realize how unhealthy it is. But hey, at least I sorta have a relationship with an aunt I didn't really have one with before, so that is potentially good. I'll relax when we've achieved the goals I guess. Even on vacation this stuff is inside, it goes with you.

So. The neighbors. Again. Yes. One of the many reasons I'm not sad that Nikki pushed the moving idea. I have a trick for large item trash to avoid paying fees. I put the times out the day AFTER trash pick up, so they have roughly a week until the next one. And only once has it failed me and the item did not 'just wander off on it's own!". So we found out that Yuriko had been peeing behind the filing cabinet I had for years to organize. She died of brain cancer, but no one knew she had it until the day we had to put her to sleep, but in the last six months or so of her life she had developed some strange behaviors as the cancer was changing her little brain. My poor kitty. But anyway, she had taken to peeing behind the metal filing cabinet, and apparently on this ancient pressboard bookshelf I've had since I was 16. That is 1988 for those who really wanna know the age of this thing, and no, I have ZERO idea how it lasted that long, it's the kind where they sorta glued sawdust together and called it wood but this thing really didn't wanna die. So pretty much unsalvageable, so I put both out on a Friday afternoon and resolved not to think about it unless they were still there by Wednesday, in which case I would call the trash company and arrange for the Thursday pickup to take them. Saturday morning I am started out of my bed, at FIVE IN THE MORNING. By the sound of grown men arguing LOUDLY just under our bedroom window. I am exceedingly confused why it seems two random strangers chose to have some sort of what sounded like a deeply emotional conflict on my yard at that hour, so I hauled myself out of bed and reached for the curtain, and pulled it aside just a wee bit to see. And yup, it's the neighbor son, fighting with some random dude who was loading the filing cabinet into his pickup. Which I suspected would go easily, it's metal and metal salvage is big here among the poor now . But the neighbor is yelling at him his mom saw it first and it was theirs. Dude was finally like then you should have taken it, finished loading, and left. Yes, there were two people who argued for nearly a half hour over my TRASH. We have reached the point where people are actually fighting over peed on, trashed furniture that really isn't usable anymore. ​ So I figure that's the end of it, the bookshelf will sit, and I'll have to pay a coupla bucks to get rid of it. Or Nikki can take the hatchet to it and we can burn it in the fire pit out back. Whatever. I got back to sleep, and we get up a few hours later and go out to run a few errands. As I'm standing by the car, something is bugging me for a minute, and I can't figure out what... and then I realize, yup. The creepy neighbors actually took the ancient bookshelf that had finally begun to disintegrate and was so soaked in cat urine that no amount of the enzyme cleaner I tried to use to salvage it made a difference into their house. Where they have cats, who are going to take that as a challenge and pee all over my cats pee. Some days the crazy just won't let me not look at it and contemplate how we got to this point on this street. Here's hoping future battles over my trash occur at reasonable hours at least. Do you think it would be taken amiss if I put out a sign that reads "All battles over our trash must occur in this corner of the yard, and only between the hours of 1pm and 6pm". LOL