I got into a drawn-out discussion with a healthcare professional at an institution I no longer frequent because of their negligence. And it’s pissing me off that they keep harassing me for the final hundred bucks I owe them.
They are literally leaving me to fucking fall apart over here. You will never get your two dollars, fuckfaces.
I had responded to an event they invited me to, about dealing with end of life fears. I said said if you provided actual care, death wouldn’t be so damned imminent. Good luck saving the world and enjoy your little event.
Mom said, Jesus. I tried all this time to make you softer. And you’re harder than ever.
I didn’t think about it till a few hours later when I went to pick up dinner and nobody would fucking move to let me grab my fucking bag.
I actually said to a woman, “Get the fuck out of my way,” as she was blocking the exit and oblivious to me and my mask trying to get the fuck out of there.
She must have been a New Yorker because she didn’t even look fazed.
Then I came home and went to feed the kitties and duckos. Tried to walk down to this little bridge along the Intracoastal, and a goofy looking coupe with a chubby dude and a woman (I think) with glasses and frizzy hair were making out and blocking the way.
I had seen them leave their apartment; didn’t realize they ended up there. So I said, “Go play stinkfinger in your condo” and went on my way.
I got a few feet away and laughed.
Oh, Rosie Girl. I see why you fucking hated everybody in the end. Thank you for loving me. Perhaps only me.
I get you, Gram. I wish I REALLY did then, but I sure do now.