I've been thinking today of how, when I was a little kid, I never wanted to take a bath. I'd resist. And then once I was in the tub, with toys and properties of water to experiment and play with, I'd think--- more than once! --- something like "Gee, I like this. Isn't it weird that I don't want to take a bath? This is fun." I'd be surprised, over and over, how I'd forget that I actually liked being in the tub. Surprised that I'd forget, and surprised to realize I'd forgotten yet again. Like it just couldn't stick in my head.
I gotta figure out how much I can afford to hire the tree guy down the street to do. Life would sure be different with a lot of "disposable" income. Wouldn't it?
Captain Awkward was unusually harsh with her Letter Writer today, and interesting interpersonal relations stuff was there to be pondered, but among other things she said (in boldface, no less) (I'll just make it italic here) The abusers of the world know what they did and they know why people are mad at them. This was a striking notion. Kinda like the bathtub thing, the way I can't seem to retain that possibility, in the face of acting as if it's not that way.
The dog wagon comes again this week.