None of the stomach medicines can completely do the job. I kind of life it that way. Nature wins. =). Take care of yourselves, folks.

Dad is verbally and psychologically abusive towards mum. She’s kind of stupid in that she hasn’t divorced him yet. So she has to do that. And then, she and I need to find a real estate broker to help us find a place to live away from father, the demon. Just this morning dad was being cocky/facetious/gross/abusive language and body language wise about her not being able to qualify for anything. Putting her down. She’s shit, she can’t afford anything, smacking his ass motions. It goes by in a blur. I really don’t like him.

In other news, there is a “potential offer” on the table available from Roche. I don’t know what that means. It means basically nothing, imo. Like, they’re still thinking, but they like you, but they’re still thinking (about it). So no guarantee, = no offer. That’s how I do the math, anyway. Kind of frustrating to be so close. If only I had more qualifications. I guess being sick for a year doesn’t look good even if it is my fault.

I don’t really expect much from my job search. Maybe that’s the way it should be. So you don’t get burnt out or bummed out.

So I sent mom an email with a link to nearby real estate brokers. Dad is a real estate broker but he’s abusive, hard to deal with, overconfident, and actually quite stupid and doesn’t know what he’s doing. The dementia is starting to kick in, never mind the abusive quantities of energy. I find he makes very bad decisions very often. Would not trust him as a real estate broker.

So we find our own, and pay. He gets obscenely mad we didn’t choose him, I yell at him that he should’ve behaved better if he wanted to be our broker / no way in hell is someone with the mannerisms like him going to sell us a house. It’s ridiculous and audacious of him to think that. But he thinks is; guaranteed.

No kratom today yet, about two and a half cups of coffee.


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