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As I type - on my work computer, because I left my personal machine at my ex's by mistake - I have sore feet from yesterday at Emerald City Comicon (plus old injuries), and a sore back from last night's date. Let me take it from the top:
I spent much of Friday & yesterday doing paperwork and emailing back & forth to co-sign on the mortgage for Ex's new place. She needed me to do that, she says, because she's been (officially) getting maintenance from me for less than six months; apparently the threshold used to be three months. She promises to re-fi as soon as she can, which would be July, and get me off the hook.
I'm deeply grateful to Mr. Right Now for being the muscle that got her ready for her garage sale. She made $1000. I delivered lunch and picked up son (who slept so late he was useless) to go to...
...Emerald City Comicon! I saw, well, everybody:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cupcake_goth, minim_calibre, theda, speedie316, intrepid_reason, tereshkova2001, Elder Goth, co worker E, and a few people who I'm too tired to remember and who are probably LJ unpersons anyway. Impulse purchase: one of JSalvador's Super Emo Friends, namely a cartoon of Jar Jar Binks hanging himself. So wrong, and yet so right. The kiddo & I only lasted three hours, but hey, if he's happy I'm happy. We commuted over I-90, 520 being closed, via the mighty convenient Sound Transit 550 from Bellevue. Suck it, parking weasels!
Speaking of I-90, an accident thereupon convinced me to allow way more time than I ended up needing to get to a date with the Tickler. She did something uncharacteristic: instead of the agreed-upon fuck-first date, she took us to a romantic light dinner at Phoenicia (Way tasty!) on Alki and watched the twilight deepen over Puget Sound, and she put a pashmina around my shoulders when I inevitably got cold. Le sigh joyeau. Ahem ensued, but I don't think that was how my back got messed up; she has an unusually soft bed.
I talked to Mom at the usual time from inside my car, parked in front of the Tickler's. (Of course I told her that.) She's back from a week in Acapulco and not much the worse for wear. This is a bigger-than-usual relief because a) I saw how addle-pated she now is in France, and b) she had neither her phone nor her computer. Not much the worse: she had a nasty encounter with unfriendly Mexican microflora.
And now, Much Younger Woman wanted to go for a hike this afternoon. My body is telling me that's not a good idea. I hate to let people down that way, but.
I spent much of Friday & yesterday doing paperwork and emailing back & forth to co-sign on the mortgage for Ex's new place. She needed me to do that, she says, because she's been (officially) getting maintenance from me for less than six months; apparently the threshold used to be three months. She promises to re-fi as soon as she can, which would be July, and get me off the hook.
I'm deeply grateful to Mr. Right Now for being the muscle that got her ready for her garage sale. She made $1000. I delivered lunch and picked up son (who slept so late he was useless) to go to...
...Emerald City Comicon! I saw, well, everybody:
cupcake_goth, minim_calibre, theda, speedie316, intrepid_reason, tereshkova2001, Elder Goth, co worker E, and a few people who I'm too tired to remember and who are probably LJ unpersons anyway. Impulse purchase: one of JSalvador's Super Emo Friends, namely a cartoon of Jar Jar Binks hanging himself. So wrong, and yet so right. The kiddo & I only lasted three hours, but hey, if he's happy I'm happy. We commuted over I-90, 520 being closed, via the mighty convenient Sound Transit 550 from Bellevue. Suck it, parking weasels!Speaking of I-90, an accident thereupon convinced me to allow way more time than I ended up needing to get to a date with the Tickler. She did something uncharacteristic: instead of the agreed-upon fuck-first date, she took us to a romantic light dinner at Phoenicia (Way tasty!) on Alki and watched the twilight deepen over Puget Sound, and she put a pashmina around my shoulders when I inevitably got cold. Le sigh joyeau. Ahem ensued, but I don't think that was how my back got messed up; she has an unusually soft bed.
I talked to Mom at the usual time from inside my car, parked in front of the Tickler's. (Of course I told her that.) She's back from a week in Acapulco and not much the worse for wear. This is a bigger-than-usual relief because a) I saw how addle-pated she now is in France, and b) she had neither her phone nor her computer. Not much the worse: she had a nasty encounter with unfriendly Mexican microflora.
And now, Much Younger Woman wanted to go for a hike this afternoon. My body is telling me that's not a good idea. I hate to let people down that way, but.
