Days of my Life #9

Its the afternoon. What? You mean I didn’t get up in the middle of the night, at the very least 8am to write? No, that’s not what I said. Yes, I did wake several times in the night to pee and then went promptly back to sleep, after noting that the sounds outside were indeed a pack of coyotes howling. I briefly thought of writing then but apparently the thought was fleeting and who am I to force the issue? When I awoke this morning first at 6, only to doze off again and then again and 8, I chose to make coffee and feed the dogs first, but this turned into making breakfast and then grumble through washing a sink load of dirty dishes left by my housemates, aka daughter and grandson. Grrrr.

Prior to sitting down to write at this lazy afternoon hour, I walked Mocha around the block using pilates style methods {to strengthen my currently relaxed core muscles}, baked chocolate chip apple/banana bread (to counteract any possible benefits of the aforementioned exercise), threw the ingredients for lentil soup into the Instant Pot, did a load of laundry, did more dishes, ate leftover lasagna (to require additional cardio exercise after writing), drove to the local bakery to get sourdough starter, pretzels and bratwurst, and then invited two friends to dine outside this evening at a distance of 6 feet away. Good thing our hearing is not handicapped. What???? Just call me the Masked Procrastinator.

Nevertheless, I am here now. And what do I have to say? I feel a little like a reboot of Suzi Homemaker, the likes of which I can only imagine though have never felt before, even having been married 2.5 times (twice legally to people (at different times) -I probably shouldn’t have married either, (but that’s a subject of another day) and not married but should’ve to the third (hence the 1/2) who by the way was actually twice the man of the other two, but he died and that sucked, big time.

Alas here I am, woe is single me, living on the blue island of Austin, Texas surrounded by a sea of many ignorant, gun-toting, not all cowboy, red necks. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all Texans are ignorant or carry guns, though many are/do, or else why would they have elected such a ginormous SOB as Greg Abbott for governor and Republican down ticket of this here state? Sheee-it! Oh sure some of them Texans are mighty friendly as long as you are white and Christian and agree with them; admittedly there are a few who are open-minded, open-hearted and progressive, which is wonderful, but we need a whole heck of a lot more of the latter and soon cause the shit is getting mighty deep and we are needing a bunch of shovels.

I know I’m going somewhere with this, just give me a moment to climb out of the hole I just dug. Oh yeh, Texas politics and politics in general are making me plumb loco. I simply can’t figure out why most Republicans are so dead set on winning everything at the expense of the health and safety of everything alive. You’d think this was the shootout at the OK Corral! Can you tell me?

I seriously believe that we don’t know what there is to know or who we should believe (certainly not the Trumpfucklicans) which is why me, the woman with a brain which is constantly working overtime, believes there is an evil force behind the puppet known as Donald Trump. Is it the devil himself who has walked into that blob of a fast food consuming body? Or could it actually be a common-sense-eating, vitriolic virus which has taken over the likes of him and all white, “christian”, many illiterate (or just greedy) Republican dweebs? Or is it a sinister plot of Vladimir Putin’s to completely destroy America? Or the Saudi’s? Or whichever Koch brother has not yet kicked the bucket of money he pisses in every day? Or off planet aliens who are watching “A the Stomach Turns/See the Earthlings Screw Kill a Planet? or, or, or??? The mind reels, at least mine does..

So what the heck can be done, other than wait to vote, by mail as absentees (and hope the votes count) and sit covered with homemade face masks, in our homes as the plague reaches out its unseen tentacles to strike on our loved ones, or us and while we are thusly occupied we order takeout? We can’t march if groups more that ten are forbidden or dangerous or both. So what then?

Aha. I have just figured out why I was doing everything but write today. My frustration has gotten the best of me. I think I’ll go now and take a nap, perchance to dream of a world that makes better sense than the one in which I currently reside.

Tune in.

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