Caterwauling

I don’t even know where to begin today.

1. It’s International Peace Day. Quick, someone tell my neighbors.

2. Someone has shit-stirred. And I’m not sure whether it’s a recent stirring (i.e., to get a reaction out of me now) or whether it’s an old, crusty, pot of dried-up turds (i.e., it was done long ago and I’m only now hearing about it). Either way, in your dreams, dirtballs of the world.

2.a. I’ve done better. So much better. The best, actually. No need for me to slum it, thankyouverymuch.

3. Carly Fiorina is the devil. As if we didn’t know that when she got her ass handed to her by $HPQ. As someone said, if she wanted to run Planned Parenthood into the ground, she should have just become its CEO.

4. Scott Walker is out of the race. Speaking of race, that same someone said Scott Walker is what happens if a racist fucks a manila envelope. Sounds about right.

5. Take Ted Cruz with you. Or Eddie Munster. Or Count Chocula. (Have you ever seen them all in the same room? I think not.)

6. And Marco Rubio. Because, that kind of batshit belongs in Florida where he can only fuck up one state and not 50. This is me taking one for the team, you know.

7. Some people need to lose my number. Seriously. Please. I beg. I’d beg on my knees but they’d like me on my knees. Which, don’t make me use teeth. I will, you know.

Ever get a good date offer to go somewhere you’ve always wanted to go … but didn’t want to go with the person asking?

I am a horrible, horrible human being for saying no for that reason, I’m sure.

In an era of not being a fan of the people I’ve called friends, I’d rather go alone or not at all.

Mom made the very “truth hurts” observation that all of my friends hurt me in a row this year. 

She’s right. And I don’t have many friends. This is why. 

I’m trying to be happy for one having a special day today. But this same person crushed my soul two months ago, saying he wouldn’t help me to help my mom. I didn’t even ask and all I would have wanted was an idea. 

Then there’s the shower issue. I don’t have the heart to order the last few items right now. And I’ve been looking to this little boy as much as his mom is. 

Then there’s the whole bulkshit of the boy who can send random strangers flowers but I get a happy birthday text and nothing else, like I was nobody special. Soulmate snd best friend, huh?

I could go on but then I’d be getting into work friends too and I ain’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. 

My faith in humanity is shot. And no I’m not wishing anyone else well right now. I wish me well. Since no one else will. 

A year ago, in a city on a river, everything changed.

I have violent fights with myself about that time in my life. Was it right to go with it, to experience someone and something so foreign from everything else I knew? Or should I have gone with my original instinct to run?

In hindsight, running was probably the right answer. But as I told this person during one of our thousands of marathon conversations, there is no such thing as a “right” choice. You choose, or else things get chosen for you.

And when you do choose, there are outcomes. Again, there are no “right” outcomes — there’s just a natural follow-up to whatever you’ve allowed to enter your life. Good and bad.

It’s all well and good to think one outcome would lead to neverending joy. Or, at least more joy than another choice. I mean, the latter may be true, and that’s what you have to take into account when you’re making your choices.

I try to remind myself that my choices made me grow. Made me smarter. Made me tougher. Or, in this case, made me softer and more open to different outcomes I never knew were possible.

That helps to temper the “what in the actual hell was I doing” moments. Which are more frequent than I’d care to admit, even now with so much distance in the rearview.

In any event, I heard this on Pandora today and it took me back to a connection that I would never have made if work hadn’t unshackled me and let me go get connected with fresh faces elsewhere in the country …

“Breakin’ down and coming undone
It’s a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that’s the way I loved you.”

— Taylor Swift, “The Way I Loved You”

I miss being tough and skeptical and doubtful and disinterested and distanced, not just from him but from everyone. But it was interesting to see what I was capable of, in my dark little heart. I just wonder whether I’ll ever even want to try to do it again.

That moment when you have two laptops, a weekend’s worth of work ahead of you, a mandatory Sunday night/Monday morning project every week anyway … and a total inability to access your work computer.

I’m doing what I can with what I have (i.e., phone and a really good colleague). Tomorrow, go to office to work. Sunday, work at home. And drink all the damn while.

No shocker that Thundercunt exploded around midnight and kept us up half the night. 

I think Thundercunt  works evenings somewhere because there’s usually a gap between crazy day noise and crazy midnight noise. I swear I’ve seen her at the Publix on Gateway. She rocks that green smock, if it’s her. I want to choke her with it. 

Big Giant Pussy gets a rude awakening every night. Last night as I was dropping off to sleep, I heard, “You are not a man. You are a fucking loser!”

I yelled through the vent, “You suck more, sweetheart.”

I invited mom to hang in my room since sleep wasn’t going to happen. As usual, we laughed our asses off and made it better. 

I think someone called security. Not like any of those kids can control those two. But eventually they shut the fuck up. Hooray. 

I don’t know if Fraggle made it to school on time. But I know she learned a whole bunch more variations on F-bombs. Her poor teacher. 

I thought about the nice homeless guy who sleeps on the brand-new cowhide benches outside of Rocco’s Tacos. And this helped me to not flip the fuck out because I do have a nice home filled with lots of joy. 

I’m going to be the bigger person and pray that Big Giant Pussy reclaims his balls from her purse and leaves her. It’s toxic for the world for these two idiots to be together. 

In the meantime, I’m avoiding that Publix unless they let me throw a brick at her face. 

Because I have a song for everything going on in my life.

Oh, and damn it.

A friend was supposed to come back to work today. Part of me was meh, because i like using speakerphone and dancing around at random times during the day. But then I thought, yay lunch buddy. You know, for the quarterly escapes. Alas, no lunching to be had because no buddy to be seen.

It’s all good. Given that eating popcorn resulted in blood loss.

Just another day in the paradise that is my life.

Every company and probably every person I know loves a good to-do list. We have daily meetings that offer a ceremonial reading of them.

I never mention the important things. I just talk about my tasks. The shit people care about if it isn’t done. The stuff that according to Quartz.com …

… isn’t important. People seldom write their biggest priorities on a to-do list. The very act of keeping a to-do list encourages you to fritter your attention away on inconsequential things. I would never include “Write a book” or “Spend time with the children” on my list.”

The article suggests we manage our attention, rather than manage our time. Otherwise, in life’s information buffet, we will choose to consume EVERYTHING instead of only what feeds our minds, souls and careers.

Read it. And, like me, probably weep: To Get the Most Out of Your Day, Manage Your Attention, Not Your Time

My new jam. Hat-tip to W.

“You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave
Time is not there to be saved
Life is a holiday
A moment stolen from the black
Before the demons drag you back
You won’t get everything you wanted
But you will never be defeated.”

— Frank Turner, “Demons”

Especially relevant today.

I got to thinking about the baby shower I missed out on.

When I last met my fambly in Orlando in December, I worked the whole time.

Sure, I joined them for dinner twice, and spent a couple hours at the pool with them. But other than that, when they went to bed/awakened/came back from wherever, I was on my laptop working.

Maybe they just figured I’d be working the whole damn time up there anyway. Perhaps they didn’t want to inconvenience me by making me feel obligated to buy a plane ticket/hotel stay/gift just to attend a two-hour party in Pennsylvania.

I don’t know. I’ll never know. And what I do know is that they are too nice to say otherwise.

Maybe I should send them a thank-you card.