Sorry to say it was my dad when he was drinking.  He was a violent alcoholic, and I was terrified a good deal of the time.  Not-drinking, he was the sweetest, kindest, do anything for you, shy man.  Not really afraid of much now, maybe the thought of some random bug crawling on me.

Turns out I don’t really have any business casual clothes.  After years of just being here by myself and only going out to casual eateries, my wardrobe consists of jeans, sneakers, and tee shirts, pretty much.  No way to go shopping, either.  Maybe I could color my sneakers black with magic markers, but the pants thing doesn’t really have a fix, and I only own one skirt, and there is not top that goes with it.  I am hopeless.  Illness changes your life in ways you don’t even really realize.