heard teeth-brushing sounds end, then tensed at approaching footsteps. dad looked like he had a new thing to say. he said he hoped whatever it was would get better and wanted me to know that i could wake him to talk or whatever and that ‘this too shall pass,’ again, seeming to know in his face that i’d say ‘thank you, but no’ to all of these things, disappointing him somehow, making the rubber band thing happen in me. i said ‘dad, remember when we talked, that talk a couple weeks ago? you’re doing the thing you don’t have to do, really the most helpful thing would be if you stopped offering to help me.’ something seemed temporarily understood. now he is asleep. keep thinking ‘there is nothing i can do’ about dad and me and here and the cats and zachary and mom and all of you and everything.

i remembered something from the pre-help-offering, around the ‘one too many beers’ time:

dad was telling a story about his friend’s wife, kind of like how i imagined the friend told it, like dad was playing back a hologram of the friend. i listened, looking mostly at my computer. the friend’s wife ate a bag of popcorn and needed surgery because of an old appendectomy. dad started describing the surgery, then something about her appendix, which was gone. i said ‘so now they’re going in to get the other one? the one they left behind?’ he laughed. i don’t think he thought i was paying attention. it felt good when he laughed.

i feel a little better after writing all of this. now it’s been another time unit. before dad was here i smoked more cigarettes on the black wicker table and put a new visitor parking pass on my windshield.

2:22AM: texted masha back. can smell dad’s jacket from chair-leaning position to type. he’s never going to get that he’s okay and that i love him and think he is a good man who is doing the best he can. his TV is made by a brand called ‘life’s good’ with a little happy face emoticon that loads before the stations. when we were talking about the remotes, dad said he had only watched TV four or five times since moving here. i think it’s been over a year. he calls it the ‘entertainment center.’ the thing i feel about that is so big. it’s sort of like ‘touched’ but bigger. like the end theme song of ‘glory.’ he is trying the best he can. he is like alvie and afraid of everything and defending himself, i understand.

2:23–3:30AM: ate 1mg xanax. watched ‘minority report’ and ‘project runway.’ ate wheat thins, cheese-flavored potato chips dipped in hummus, chocolate snack cake in a box labeled ‘great value.’ cats have been oddly quiet.

watched commercials feeling like ‘this is my duty, i will watch them and consider what they’re saying, they were made to show me about a product, the people who made it like the product, someone wants us to know.’ fell asleep on couch.