13 May 2024

Got up, showered, found that Brenda had arrived. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” I had thought I’d heard Stanford, but maybe it was her. Wasn’t a big deal, I hadn’t stayed awake for long, so I said no.

Went to Jennings and dropped off the rest of my donations, including the backpack. Observed that they’re open from 1pm to 5pm on Sundays. Oh well. Despite me dragging a little (considering my sleep had been fairly good), I had gotten off to a pretty good start timewise, so no great loss. Went on to Murphy’s and got gas for Car-car (my stupid nickname for the Sonata) for the last time. Just ten bucks because I’m not giving Carvana my fucking gas money.

Went back to Carrie’s and after a bit, she and Brenda climbed into Carrie’s SUV and we all hauled outta there. I had put the car paperwork on the passenger seat when prepping to go to Goodwill, so I had everything. Gasp.

The rep helping me out at Carvana had her just-older-than-newborn baby with her and was pleasant and helpful. Got to see cute baby and also not be dicked around. That was nice. The only slight hitch was she couldn’t scan the barcode under the VIN in the doorframe, but you can get around that by typing it in. And… I’m getting the full $2000. Apparently. She said to give it one to two business days.

I have felt naked and vulnerable all day since. It’s weird knowing I have to ask for rides now. That was so much of my life and I never wanted to be back here again.

We went to Carrie’s sister’s after Carvana because the sister is either in north Broussard or south Lafayette and I think it’s the former. And wasn’t that an enlightening conversation because apparently the sister knows Dad too? And finally it came out because both Carrie and her sister are of the opinion that Dad went to Montana because Carrie got married. It was one of those lightning “I KNEW IT” moments. Carrie talked a little more about it than she had previously. Apparently, at one time, Dad had gotten to the point of trying to control where Carrie could go and what she could do. This was a complaint I heard from Reba at least a couple times, and I bet if I asked Mom I would hear the same thing. Hell, just the other day he was trying to tell me how I was supposed to angle my room fan. Dude, let people fuck up once in a while. Or, don’t just assume they are fucking up, because we don’t all do things the same way. Some questions have definite answers, some don’t.

The sister (I’m sorry I can’t remember her name) feels Dad just wants to be alone to drink himself to death, which is interesting because I’m not sure she ever actually spent that much time around him. But that’s also a thing I hear from multiple people. Will anyone do anything about it? I have mixed feelings about that too. My first impulse is “fuck no, someone intervene so we can fix him,” but no one’s ever figured out how to fix an addict. When they get fixed, they decide they want it for themselves. If you could change a person’s mind, like literally alter their brain, wouldn’t that violate their rights somehow? I don’t know what the right answer is here. I suppose it depends on why he’s an alcoholic. I don’t think even he could honestly answer that question at this point.

Oh and guess what? I’ve been grumbly for a while because he sold his nice old trailer to Rafael? He didn’t sell his trailer to Rafael. He gave it away to him. Signed it away. For free. We’ve been living in that shitbox because he gave away a multi-thousand-dollar home because he didn’t want to watch his best friend be married to someone else.

Right but I make all the shitty decisions in life

And he fucking lied. I’m 99.9 percent positive he told me he SOLD it to Rafael.

And from what Carrie says, he wasn’t taking care of it anyway. The ceiling in the master bath was falling in — that lovely master bath with the Jacuzzi tub — and he wasn’t doing shit about it. That put me in mind of the mushy floor in the master-bathroom shower and the way a tree fell on the other end of the trailer during Hurricane Rita and you could see the water damage through the hallway wall — the plastic wall covering was rippling. I don’t get how someone becomes a Navy senior chief and then does not take care of things, and at that point he still sort of could — if nothing else, he could hire it done. Nada. Fucking… He’d have a decent place to live now. I do not understand that man.

Came back here, got to talking about luggage and Carrie’s got some pieces she doesn’t use and it turned out Stanford had some extra stuff too. So right now it looks like I have the checkable suitcase, which rolls, thank you very much, and also a wallet because I wanted a leather one that zips around and Stanford had bought one that he ended up not liking. I am not sure about the bag they suggested for carryon. Reason: I want to keep my document pouch on my person. We’ll work that out. I still have that gift-card stuff to spend (I am not sure I can take it out of state, so why chance it) and sixty in cash. One bag in the dimensions Greyhound allows won’t be a big deal.

Have been disgruntled because I had hoped that Chime would deposit the Carvana money early, but no such luck. Carvana has told me this evening that they completed the payment process from their end. So it’s tenterhooks time. I need to notify the OMV (Office of Motor Vehicles — Louisiana’s name for it) that I sold the car and I’m a little afraid they will want me to pay them something. As it is, I owe GEICO thirtysomething bucks, prorated for this month. If OMV doesn’t fuck me, that’ll be okay. I just want to get this shit SORTED. The OMV’s tab is staying up on my browser until that money comes through.

Have looked over possibilities for travel AGAIN… like, given where all the stops are, why do I have to go to Medford? I have tried starting in Lafe. and stopping in Sacramento and getting on a different bus to Crescent City and that option’s not available, not even through FlixBus, which does the last leg of my trip to Medford. Make it make fucking sense. So I had best leave it the way it is.

It is looking like I really have to leave here at the evening departure, though, which seems to usually be around 9:15. It’s the only way I will make the transfer to the Crescent City bus in anything like a reasonable amount of time. And if I wait til the day prior to get the tickets, they’ll be closer to $500 than to under $300. It may be that it’ll be as late as Saturday or Sunday before I can take off. Which I have already explained the situation to Carrie, and she’s fine with that. She gets back from Corey’s on Friday afternoon anyway.

But it’s fret fret fret in the meantime. I WANT MY MONEY

I miss my car.

I don’t miss the bills associated with said car, though. Because that’s the other thing that would have sunk me.

Okay. I had to rip this out of myself and you don’t want to know how long it took. Bedtime. Zzzzz.