. . . and then you die?

Thoughts of that cabin at the farm and real life are diverging more and more. I "billed" 14 hours today, and I'm tired -

Encountered five people who gave me pause - two have trust deed (our equivalent of a mortgage) foreclosures this month because society's safety net has gaping holes. One called me and a friend and talked suicidal, then was peeved that I called the Sheriff's office to send a deputy to check on her - the friend is coming up to bring her in and go with her through the resources we have. I'm still sad about the friend who suicided over the summer. One WALKED three fucking miles to get to Court - I gave her a lift home and asked her why she didn't call me before the hearing - she said she didn't want to bother me. And a fourth was the wife of a disability client from years back who has herself suffered a disabling work injury, and has found that her supposedly caring employer (a healthcare provider, no less) actually doesn't give a shit about her as a person.

I submitted the entire 4th quarter canon to the state bar journal - it will be interesting to see if they publish any of it. There is a new executive director who I don't know who will make the editorial decisions.

My dear paralegal Kathy had her last chemotherapy treatment today - now for some radiation, and she will have completed treatment.

Down 160, still a fall risk on the ice, and I'm going to keep using my walking stick this winter - looking dumb beats breaking a hip or something. This may be more info than you want, but I find that when one's ass is bonier, it's harder to sit on a hard chair. Oh, and I shopped at a CONVENTIONAL CIVILIAN STORE for clothes today - Believe me, that is sooooooo gratifying.

Also substantial issues going on that I cannot explain that are worrisome. That cabin looks better and better.

Pippa passes. Mizpah.

R