This life of mine, it can be a challenging one. But generally I am able to deal.

I am fairly well reconciled to never having any free time except when stolen (like now) from time allotted to something else, in this hour's case drying all the laundry my mom and I brought home from the laundromat wet because drying it there costs buckets and takes forever and the kids' summer schedules are too tight to fit it in anyhow, and besides our dryer works even though our washer still smells like a beach bucket with a week-old dead starfish in it because the people who lived here before us didn't know how to clean out their drains and now all the outgoing water in the house is backed up into the toilets, sinks, dishwasher, and of course the clothes washer, and has been backed up for seven days now because the plumber who came out for a consult six days ago dropped off the face of the earth shortly afterwards, but didn't bother to notify the home warranty people who contracted with him, probably for the same reason it took me two days to reach them--they are so backlogged that all calls take at least fifteen minutes to get through the queue, and half of the time you get dropped when the final connection clicks in.

I have been dealing fairly well, I think, with the very upsetting events of the past few weeks; divorces and separations in the family, more unfair death (this time good friends of my pilot brother, who was with his friend when he got the news), and such. Changes of that magnitude just don't seem possible.

But just when I think I am made out of smooth, hard stone and nothing can touch me, Leelo takes advantage of the Iron Gate pre-Mali Summer School pick up waiting time to use me as a punching bag, in front of five hundred or so impressionable parents and their teeny tiny breakable children. I have never been so grateful that Iron Gate leases facilities from my church; I was able to drag Leelo into the sanctuary and hide us there until I collected myself. I don't think anyone saw me actually lose my composure, and that's the way I'd like to keep it.

On days like today I am so very frightened about Leelo and his future; about whether he'll be able to stay with us, about whether we'll have to end up sticking him on some kind of horrible tranquilizing drug; about whether he's going to injure one of his sisters or some random stranger, or, you know, me. He is very strong.

Now I am crying again. Thankfully I am hiding in my office and my mom is watching Mali.

Time for more laundry.

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