Goodbye Mr. Fluffy

You know how sometimes you feel so bad you think you can't go on? This isn't one of those times. I can go on.

And yet, oh my god.

First RBG, then my baby. The pain of losing my cat helps to block out the pain of Trump getting another Supreme Court pick. The wretchedness I feel about the political situation distracts me from the agony of Chester's death from an aortic thromboembolism yesterday morning.

This does not mean that either of these are good things. They are wound around in my mind in a loop of misery.

Yesterday I was just spacey all day, couldn't focus, couldn't think. Today some of the pain gets to seep through, very unpleasantly. 

Enough for this post.