Caterwauling

It’s the solstice today. Although I think yesterday was truly the longest day of the year. 

The strawberry moon is still out too. The moon is rimmed in pink although my iPhone actively rebels against taking good moon pics. 

My lovely little balcony. 

I had to look up an old article I wrote (back from my byline days).

They didn’t keep much on the web of mine. But there was one really good call I made in 2011 and they keep it up there. I wish they or I had posted the results. But it was my one and only trade recommendation, and a profitable one at that if anybody listened to it.

I got to thinking about how I set the style for an entire department. I wrote certain things certain ways, and they still stick to that style. No one did it before me.

It was my baby. Beautifully grotesque and kept me up most nights.

I was writing down some goals this morning. And they seemed so small in comparison to things I’ve done. Basically now I write tasks when back then I wrote visions. Impossible stuff. Cool-ass things that even I didn’t dream I could do.

I like to think I was pretty motivated. But I had someone ego pushed me hard too. Wanted me to be able to say I did a lot. Dragged me kicking and screaming at times.

I owe that person so much.  

After Braddock Beach’s finest pulled me over yesterday (and gave me a ticket for no seat belt — which I had taken off to reach across to the glove box to get my g.d. registration out) — I parked at the beach and cried for a very long time.

Well, maybe 20 minutes, till the skies opened up and I got soaked.

The sun came out as I screeched out of the lot. And it stayed out, even as the strawberry moon rose.

I went home and buried my nose in a book about plane crashes. I finished it after midnight.

Woke up about 30 times not due to the terrorist upstairs, but I kept seeing that cop’s smug face. Like, hahaha, so you didn’t think your Father’s Day could get worse you fatherless girl? Here’s an extra-special fuck you.

Honest to God, how many more signs do I need that I need to get out of here? Because I don’t think I can take anything else. I really don’t.