Ok. Not my fingers. My heel. I've got one blister on my heel. But it's big. And gnarly. And sore. Flip flops for the rest of the week. Gross.
Things are getting back to near-ok in the Sweet household. There are little empty spots where an orange furball used to terrorize us, but the sadness is turning into fond memories. I was talking to Marilyn today for the first time since Simon left us, and we were reminiscing about all the weird and wonderful things that Beaster did. It didn't make everything all right, but it made it better. Dad is less quiet, even though Mum is still solemn. My face still leaks from time to time, but I think that's reasonable.
I wanted to post again so my downer news would no longer be at the top of the page. Bah.
New movie review.