The county fair is officially gone for another year.

Nope, didn’t go.
I didn’t pay the $5 for parking and the $10 for a sno cone.

But, that’s okay. It’s just more that I’ll have to make up to myself later in life.
My tab to myself is going take me a lifetime to pay off.

Anyway, the trailers, games, and rides disappeared over the past couple of days going to who knows where. Then, I remembered — five years ago, the departing fair was one of the last things I saw before being placed in the House for seven months.

You see, I was admitted to the House in the middle of the week instead of their typical Friday/Saturday because my blood was leaking through my veins and to the surface of my skin.

Anyway, five years ago, I promised myself that I’d visit the fair when I got out. When I was healthy.
But, nope.

That’s okay.

Lately, my thoughts have been pre-occupied with what is needed to be done at the Florida house.
It needs painting inside and out. Rotting cabinets replaced. The back shed is rotting. It needs electrical work, plumbing… Just a lot of stuff.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about how my last trip went.
I felt ill all the time and couldn’t sleep except when I’d over sleep. Looking back, it felt like a vicious cycle that I couldn’t break out of.

Anyway, I really feel the need to improve that house.
It’s almost like, even five years later, my negative emotions perminate from the walls. Eventually, it sinks through my skin and I feel the echo of the panic attacks, depression, and thoughts of self-harm.

It’s a past I can’t run away from. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to. It’s part of me and I accept it. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t build upon it and make it better.

I’m just really impatient for that to happen.

I’ve even thought about doing it all at once. Going into massive debt.
That woud be irresponsible, but still… When is enough enough?

I don’t know.

Anyway, my new class is going okay.
I miss the lack workload from the 102 class. The 202 one is more demanding but the students are still a pain in the butt. That’s usual.

What I’ve noticed over the past ten years of so of being an adjunct is how the name change.
The names become more progressively… creative? Some of them seem like names I’d see on an online game like:

Nutisha
Jorequa
Selita

I could completely see those names spamming West Commons.