Just as yesterday, I’ve spent most of today at home, looking after Tony. He’s no better, and no worse. He gave me a bit of trouble taking his medicine today, but grudgingly accepted it eventually. Then he hid under the bed for two hours.

Late this afternoon I went out to run an errand and pick up a few groceries. After my first stop I noticed my car was pulling, ever so slightly, to the right. By the time I reached the grocery store, it was pulling pretty hard, and I got out to investigate. Flat tire, right front. Joy. Just as I dragged the spare, jack and 4-way lug wrench from the trunk, it started to rain. More joy. My little hydraulic jack, which I’ve been carrying for months, suddenly didn’t want to work, so I had to resort to the rickety screw-and-scissors model that came with the car. Joy, joy, joy. Ten minutes later, filthy and soaked to the core, I went inside and did my grocery shopping. Arriving at the checkout I found one (1) register open, with a line approximately as long as Snoop Dogg’s criminal record.

Ah well, they can’t all be good days. Worried sick about Tony I finally made it home, lugged my groceries up the stairs, put them away, sat down, drank a quart of iced tea, and calmed down a bit.

I decided not to drink today. This has left me a lot more worried, but a lot less physically ill, and I guess it’s a good trade. Alcohol is useful on an occasional basis, to dull something sharp that can’t be dealt with any other way, but I keep a close watch on myself for signs of it becoming a crutch. I’m not an alcoholic but I’m not foolish enough to think I couldn’t develop such a problem, given enough pressure.

A final thought. It struck me tonight how much trash the average home generates, and it is staggering. Just putting my groceries away tonight, I filled half of a thirty-gallon trash bag with packaging, grocery bags, wrappers and such. I’m not sure why I never noticed this before. When I think of how much trash a city like Atlanta generates every day, it boggles the mind. Where does it all go?