Two important guides you don't want to miss

Friday evening.  Liam is finally asleep - temporarily at least - after two miserable days-and-nights.  Rachel's getting a much deserved and badly needed night at home.  Since her surgery on Wednesday, Liam is not well.  Many of the old numbers, which previously stabilized (kidneys, blood pressure, etc.) are high again.  In addition, she has a mysterious wound on her left thigh.  At first they thought it's a bed sore, but it doesn't look or acts as such.  It bothers Liam a lot.  And let's not forget:  this "minor" procedure was a brain surgery, none less.  So she has plenty on her plate.  And things are not well.

In addition, some of the medications are not as effective as they were earlier, which adds to her discomfort.  I'm aware that I reported about her high spirit earlier this week.  Unfortunately this is another perfect example of this crazy roller coaster we're riding the past several months.  It keeps rolling and rolling and rolling.

I need to finish this post soon so I can catch some sleep.  There's no telling when Liam will wake up in pain again.

The Laundry Basket Guide to Financial Freedom
Like most men, I too have several old T-shirts that I love dearly and wouldn't let go of.  My explanation, naturally, is a practical one:  "but why get rid of it?  it's only 15 years old...I could easily get 15 more out of it....it's just a waste of money to throw it away."  But with Rachel it's not that easy.  The shirt is just coming out of the dryer, looks and smells clean, when I hear the yelling from the other side of the house (where she can't even see me):  "get rid of this shirt...it's too old...it smells bad even after the wash".  All based on her sense of smell alone (she knows what I had for lunch when I'm pulling into the street).  I sniff but I don't smell a thing - only the good scent of the detergent.  "Throw it over there, on the floor....I will donate it". 
And just like that 15 years of love and bond are coming to an end.  No ceremony, no funeral.  And now I have to pull money out of my 401K to finance a future shirt for the homeless.  Which brings us to....

The Laundry Basket Guide to Social Justice
But Rachel, why would some homeless gets to wear it?  First of all, why let him suffer the smell (what smell, Rachel? Really.  I still can't smell it)?  What did he do wrong to deserve it?  Secondly, I'm sentimental about this shirt.  This is the shirt I was wearing when I buried our old cat (oh, so it's not the money...it's an emotional issue....but SSHHHHH, quite please).  But the educated reader knows already that social justice is something only the naive ones believe in.  In other words, this is a lost  battle.  The shirt is gone.