day 45

Liquid anger courses through my veins. Anxiety crushes the last breath of calm from my lungs. My ears bleed from fatigue. My home is no longer a fortress of introspection.

In other news: when did drinking from mason jars become a thing? It vexes me.

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day 32

Nothing good comes from discussing politics with family. The same is true with religion. Just avoid the conversation for another 6 weeks.

The in-laws talked to Mrs. Fish about if we were okay with staying here until March. This conversation happens weeks too late, but whatever. My wife told them as nicely as she could that we are both introverts who need quiet time to recharge and relax. He tries to accept that, but after a couple of days he goes back to being the helicopter brother-in-law. He hovers and tries too hard to make things okay in return for occupying my spot on the couch for 9 weeks.

Then there is the whole third-rail conversation we can’t have. I am so fucking pissed off at America right now, and the in-laws are part of the problem. They use social services, but they vote for people who will restrict or take those services away. They don’t have much money, but they vote for people who plan to redistribute wealth from the middle class to the wealthy. They have been on and off health insurance, and their kids have mental health issues, but they vote for people who will allow the insurance companies to take coverage away.

Then they ask me if everything is okay when I get home, and can’t understand why I hide in the bedroom for hours at a time.