And the Real Post

This morn­ing was spent in court, with hap­py results.

As I over­did the paint­ing yes­ter­day in a very big way, I end­ed up col­lapsed at home&mddash;so com­plete­ly out of it in a hydrocodone-laced fog that Sam chose to walk home from the bus rather than let me dri­ve even that far. He’s such an incred­i­ble man—and I feel like a shit because he had to do that.

Post-court brought an inescapable nap. At this point in the day, it’s hard­ly worth­while for Sam to go all the way in to Buck­head to spend 90 min­utes at work and anoth­er 90 min­utes get­ting back home. So we’re going to pack and clean and oth­er­wise con­tin­ue move preparations.

And I made yet anoth­er new com­mu­ni­ty—dis­abled­stu­dent, for those who are deal­ing with a dis­abil­i­ty while get­ting through college/university.