Yeah, I can't believe it either. I still think there's a fiasco out there heading my way at something better than double nickels. Or a major limb is going to fall off. I'm glad to say that for once I don't think anything horrible is likely to happen to Dad or to Margaret, though he too seems horribly depressed. I asked him if he wanted to renew his Consumer Reports subscription and he said that he just looked at it when he wanted to buy things didn't think he'd be buying all that much more. So this kind of thinking has to be headed off.
As to me, zippiness is far, far away, though I did inadvertently smile a couple of times yesterday. The kitty has fully recovered from her funk, so at least I have a playful kitty again. That helps tons and tons. Morale improves with every fiasco-free day at the facility. May they continue.
(Just to be totally clear, "facility" refers to me, not to the place where Dad's staying.)
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