Had a bit of a kerfuffle with the plane — thought I might miss it since the customs line was so long, and indeed, I only made it during final call, among the last 5-10 people to board. But then it was delayed 30min anyways so none of it mattered. Got up super early, 5:30AM MST, so I tried to sleep on the plane; got about an hour, which was surprising.
Justin/Trinh picked me up from the airport, which was very sweet of them. Trinh backed up into my bag while I was behind her, and I nearly shit myself. But whatever, it was fine. I spent a lot of time unpacking my stuff into the closet again. I have so incredibly many clothes, I should definitely sell/cosign some of it.
I ordered a lot of stuff that came while I was gone. I’m pretty salty at how shitty pant sizing is. I wear 30x30 usually, and it was completely fine for my first pair of raw denim jeans (and pretty much any other clothes I’ve ever bought), so I bought two others. The RRL pair fits me fairly tightly but it’s still wearable. But I have a pair of Visvim chinos and a pair of Dondup jeans that just won’t fit. Both are outrageously good quality, but neither of them fit me in the thighs; they fit like yoga pants, but are fine for the waist. Am I just the Quadfather or something?! I guess I should stick with relaxed fit or athletic fit pants. Slim jeans are definitely not for me. They’re not even skinny though, I thought slim-straight pants should be fine. So incredibly odd.
I quite like the new iPhone — the speakers are really good, it charges way faster, and camera control is quite useful.
Wow the evening was brutal. I recorded a voice message about it as I walked around bernal peak but the tldr is that my mom has endometrial cancer, and didn’t tell me for a month. The cancer itself is mostly fine — it’s fairly curable via hysterectomy, which is the surgery she had about a month ago. So that’s fine. But what’s worse is that she still has depression and needed to take benzodiazepines to sleep.
I have a hard time distinguishing if it’s menopausal or from her health or from my leaving Calgary. I don’t know if it matters. Everything in my life felt so fixable via effort/hard work but this feels like something even God (if one exists) has a hard time fixing.
I really don’t know what to do. The fact that she didn’t tell me until one month later, when I already left, is pretty upsetting. It’s like she thinks I care more about my work than I care about her. It’s like I optimized for everything except what really mattered.
Fuck man. It’ll be fine. It has to be. But like, honestly, what even matters in this life? I’m so incredibly tired. I have a lot on my plate. It feels like I owe so many people so many things. It’s quite harrowing.
Where do I even start?