We got stinkman out of here yesterday. We roused him at ten in the morning and learned that he had slept through the last two days and had prepared nothing for his departure. His face is all hollowed out now, like a terminal patient and just perfect for this Halloween season. We had him bag up his things and then put them in the garage (since he discovered that his car had been towed and therefore had no arrangements for moving his things). This took him several hours. He spent an hour alone counting all his pills on the bathroom counter. Thousands of pills. Whilst we cleaned, we were able to piece together his ailment. Drugs. Specifically Demerol. There were vials of that with syringes in many locations. There was an extermely large knife under the bed. I dubbed it the paranoia knife.
The bottle of bipolar medication was full and it was the only pill he left behind. It was sad, because he was robust and alive when he came here a year and a half ago. And now a shell surrounded by pornos (you should have seen the piles of those dvds!) and drugs. This is the danger of being young and not really having to work. Just look at the young celebrities. Responsibilities keep us from overindulgence. You can quote me on that.
We had our housecleaner come over to help and I washed all the fabrics and dishes. Our dishwasher broke down *of course* when I loaded it with all his unwashed dishes. I had pushed the "extra hot" button, which I'd never done before and ten minutes later the machine was dead. So I did them all by hand. I don't know how stink impregnates glass and china, but it does. Anything plasticky, I threw away.
Each day I cry half as much as the day before. I'm lucky today though, I get to go see my schnauzer friend at MIL's house today. Tigars. We love each other and I'm going to have to break the news about sara to him.