The Week of Goo

Last week of school for my 5th grader, our old dog Maisie died, my mom went certifiable, our friend's marriage is a mess, Barry's working so much it's like a he's a railroad man and just stops through town to salute us, parents are in Nova Scotia retracing the steps of Anne of Green Gables, alcoholic brother in MD basically gave me the finger when asked for help with certifiable mother, but you know what bugs me the most?

That my toothpaste tube has holes in it and every time I try to squirt toothpaste out, it comes out like in a wave in four places. And I don't want to throw it out cause I really like this toothpaste, and I get it at Trader Joe's and it's not a store on my beaten path. So I use it until my hands are like covered in goo and every night I feel like hey, why did you have to get holes in you, gentle toothpaste tube?? I loved you and still you goo me. I threw it away last night. And hey, Crest tastes good too.

Just trying to hang on. Picturing the green grasses and rocky waters of Nova Scotia. And my new favorite type of dog, Newfoundlands. (they're from there. Or rather, from Newfoundland. Which is somewhere over there.)