My current life is interesting, to say the most. I'm sitting in one of my two cool chairs inside the full garage loaded with Shelby's and my stuff. It's Florida hot and muggy, I'm smoking because it's legal, and I'm sharing my life here because I'm an idiot.

I had a nice evening with Shelby last night. She got back from a meeting, where a lady client of hers had bought me a Mexican food plate. The food, and according to Shelby, the client, was hot.

We snugged up on the couch with blankets and dog last night to watch Sandra Bullock play a funny FBI agent. The movie bailed halfway through because of bad internet, and they're coming Monday to fix it.

It's the next day, and it's really important I remember this. The stroke and the brain seizures, or whatever the hell happened, have really messed me up. Not asking for sympathy here, just explaining why dumb words and actions come from my damaged mind.

That's why I write things here, so I can clean things up, and try to establish a time frame around everything, which is currently seriously confused.