Melish Lives And Is Sleeping Tight

The turbulence of the last couple of weeks is mostly over and I'm happy to announce that Melish, the soldier who gets stabbed to death in the "Saving Private Ryan" clip from the previous post is not fatally wounded after all. That is to say, the sobriety he metaphorically represented is back and steaming along quite fine, thank you very much. Back to Day 3 but steaming along nevertheless.

And "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite." can again be a pre-sleep saying 'cause it turns out the the bug bites were exclusively from work after all. No bed bugs in my apartment. The exterminator guy even came and checked it out and gave me the "all clear."

The only remaining bit of turbulence would be the continued overtime I'm doing and how it's slowly but surely fraying every last nerve. But I'm hanging in there. Big fat paychecks like the one I got yesterday are quite the salve to sooth the savage beast that is my growing impatience and snitty-ness, as Linda would say.

Speaking of Linda, and Wayne, but not my family who, it turns out, may all be back in RI now, I was thinking of flying up there and visiting them for T-day week. I have that week off as my replacement vacation so I have the time. I've been watching "Transparent" on my Amazon Fire stick with my newly-acquired subscription to Amazon Prime and it's got me thinking about my choice regarding my isolation from people who mean something to me. My New England friends only, of course. My family burned down that bridge (maybe I threw a match into the pyre as well a few times) so revisiting their relationships with me won't be on the table.

But, after a recent search using my super-duper hacker skillz (ie. a shitload of Google searches mixed in with some assumptions) I think my sister, her wife Jan and my dad are all back up north. It looks like they sold their house in Fort Pierce and I think my dad was living with them so... Also, my sister's Facebook says she "Lives in Woonsocket, Rhode Island" so there's that. So this might make me the only family member to have survived the Florida Curse and stayed here. I'll clue you in some other time as to the details of how moving to Florida in the 90s affected each of us in the most severe ways. Well, you kinda know about my struggles already, they've had their Koyos too, believe me.

So three cheers!

I beat the cravings (for the present anyway) and am alcohol-free! Hip hip, hooray!

I didn't track any pesky bed bugs home and haven't been bitten at work again either! Hip hip, hooray!

And I'm the last Chausse standing in the Sunshine State! Hip hip, hooray!