None of it feels real 6.11.19

None of it feels real 6.11.19

I keep thinking it’s not real. This can’t be happening. Not to my strong dad.

I couldn’t find the garbage can liners. I know this doesn’t seem like a big deal. But my dad was asleep and my mom has no idea. My dad does a ton of the house management. This place is HUGE. I’ve always lived in small places and been fine with it. I’d even be open to a tiny house. Less to furnish, clean and heat, is what I figure.

My mom wanted to move years ago but my dad refused. She always said: if he can take care of the house, then fine.

Now, we’re left scrambling to figure out how to create entirely new systems for everything. Someone has to drag the heavy garbage and recycling bins to the end of the alley (the trucks ruin the alley road so everyone agreed to do this). The boxes from Amazon, etc. usually get taken to his warehouse by him. All these little things.

I’d rather not use liners. I’m on the look-out for compostable ones at the very least. I’ve become a little bit obsessive about reducing my waste. It’s clearly something that I can focus SOME control over. I’ve always been very proud of my carbon footprint. I didn’t own a car for years. The one I drive now is a hybrid. I’ve always been good about recycling. I learn which numbers mean what in each new city.

The guy I was with in San Diego used to live in the desert so he encouraged me to more careful about water. My one thing that I’ve always indulged in is long showers and baths.

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