Days of my Life #5

Lazy me. I woke at 8:30 am! That is beyond lazy, it’s crazy. What is happening to me? Have I become the wilting flower of creativity, resting on the leaves of yesteryear, awaiting my demise from god knows what, probably a literary hummingbird who knows there ain’t no nectar here, bud? Or Am I just sitting here on my planetary throne with light casting upon me as if I’m the chosen one?

No actually I’m plotzed in my chair drinking my cup of “WBD” (why bother decaf, for those just tuning in) to regurgitate the gobbledygook in my head for all to see (other than me and close personal friends) who may be reading.

Before I came to this moment I had made scratch buckwheat pancakes and meatless breakfast sausages with real maple syrup for unpredictable, adorable, often infuriating grandchild, my daughter et moi. Notice I slipped in a petite French mot? Are you impressed? Me neither, but it was worth a shot.

We then went on a dog walk where the dogs dragged us hither and yon to sniff outside of the confines of our spacious, overgrown yard which is currently littered with an assortment of stuff that my grandson requires in order to drive us batshit crazy when he is not being totally endearing. Such is my reoccurring schizophrenic life here with family. The ups and downers of children isolated from other friends they can torture instead of their family could be a series that everyone streams rather than lives daily. Oh my, corona!

We’ve (daughter and I) all but thrown in the towel on the first grade teacher’s recommendations since the catching of frogs, lizards and bugs, rescuing baby bird eggs to incubate, building rocket ships, damns and going on treasure hunts, appears to entertain the imagination and foster learning for this particular kid. And I’m not sure this is a bad thing, though some healthy playtime with his peers would be ideal. As far as the ABC’s, he is learning to read. Gotta count the blessings.

Today I am going to venture into my office (yes, I have one) to do, (shudder/swear/scream) paperwork. I was going to say taxes but I am so pissed off with our current lack of administration that I am waiting till the very last minute to pay (if I owe) anything to the fuckers. Actually I might find a way to not pony up until the very last microsecond, hoping that he/they will choke on the lies-a-plenty soup they’ve been force feeding the masses. My reticence to pay my fair share is because it isn’t fair at all. I almost feel like a libertarian which just saying that is horribly wrong. No I’m a non-card-carrying socialist. There I said it. If you don’t like it, go fuck yourself.

And if you’re still reading this because you don’t mind my being a socialist or you’re a socialist or your dad/mother etc were, or that I said FU, let’s keep at it.

For years I had a successful business selling farrier (look it up) supplies, And I was an extremely generous employer, which meant paying staff well above minimum wage, full health insurance for employee and family, two weeks vacation after a year, plus sick and personal time, and more (but we only had a free coke machine and not the full snack bar). Why? This was because my dad taught me to take care of my employees as if they were family. Now we know sometimes a family must throw out the itinerant “son or daughter” so they can make their way in the world because they certainly haven’t learned anything at home, but in general our employees WERE like family, not only as a form of self preservation, our policy insured the health of my tribe. I didn’t make a ton of money but I was comfortable as were my employees. Making a ton of money while others suffer is just plain WRONG and and Karmic no no.

And that’s how it should be, says I who sits sprawled on her planetary throne drinking liquid of the almost gods, spewing brain stuff upon virtual paper. And with that I leave you to whatever you were planning on doing. Tune in.

3 thoughts on “Days of my Life #5

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