I always go home for labor day weekend. Depsite the awful traffic. We are having a yard sale this weekend. What that means is, we are too lazy to buy a booth at the flea market and we would rather recoup $5-10 selling items than donate them or list them online. It's kind of a slow drawn out affair. Some people come at 9am and some people come at 5pm. No one seems to come between. Today there are a lot of slow drive bys.
My brain has been dictating awful dreams. It's hard to get over what's happened when your mind is lulling you back into the past when you are unconscious. I still find it hard to believe how quickly someone leaves your life when there had been so much good for so long. I feel like second chances aren't a thing anymore.
The bugs here are so loud. And constant. They get in your face, your ears, your eyes. We trapped one last night that had some kind of tail longer than its body. It was so disgustingly creepy I didn't even want a photo. I like bugs like inchworms. Those are cute. The rest can stay invisible.
The cat here doesn't like to sit with you and feigns sleep when you want to pet her. She plays, but doesn't fetch. Silly cat.