Despite feeling achy and fluey as a result of my heartbreak (why does it have the ability to resemble flu*? so weird) and despite looking at my bank balance and feeling panic at all the expenditures hitting/about to hit me big time, and despite the  fact that, in the complex I’m staying, the Christmas decorations are already up and bleating at me…

…I am managing to have a nice time, really. Family friend JoAnn is treating me like a visiting dignitary, complete with an itinerary full of nap breaks.

I went thrifting. Same issues as in my area — there’s less cool kitsch in the stores and more practical but boring items so that poor people can buy things. The class gap is huge here, this town took a hit in the recession and ain’t bouncing back too fast.

But take a look at this backgammon board, lovingly needlepointed by rlh in 1975.

And hello, oldtimer. Is that me?

Mildly amusing businesses spotted: “Animal Dermatology” and “Lingerie Superstore”.

I took home a teak salad bowl with original Scandinavian sticker, for a quarter. That is an old school score, and befits my fears (real and otherwise) that I am, or am soon to be, a poor, poor person**.

*Except with more tears. Two and a half years was a long time to be in a committed and loving relationship, no matter how correct the outcome was.

** So much freefloating anxiety! Dreams are full of loved ones acting like monsters, appearances by extremely toxic ex-men from my past, of lost ways and confusing swirls. Yikes. Werk it out, subconscious.