We also went to deal with the insurance, although the money won't be deposited in my account until Monday. The amount would at one time have been a small fortune, but looking at today's real estate prices in California, even in the backwaters like this one, is considerably less impressive. I now have options, anyway, but haven't yet figured out what they all are. I'd rather not have had to make any such decisions, but eventually I'll have to. I would of course rather not have had my house burn down and, especially, not have lost my cats.
I still feel at loose ends, and thoroughly enervated. Still not sleeping well. I keep remembering more things I don't have anymore, and wonder how long that list is going to get. My old paper journals have been much on my mind the last couple of days. For several years I kept a journal quite regularly, filling it with things written on the run while I was out and about in Los Angeles.
Every time I've looked back at them I've been surprised at some of the things I found, the things I'd done that I'd forgotten about. Most of the writing was unimpressive, but some passages here and there startled me with their vivid descriptions of now vanished places and forgotten events, and of my much younger self's reactions to them. It saddens me to know I will never have that experience again, and that huge slices of my life have lost the detail those words brought to them, and still more parts have probably now vanished forever.
No specific plans for tomorrow, except to look at more pictures of cats on the Internet. The chances I'll ever find any of mine keep getting slimmer, but I have to keep looking.