Caterwauling

I’m on call for federal jury duty this week and next.

It’s giving low-stakes draft roulette, calling in every night to see whether I’m needed.

I mean, Palm Beach has some pretty prolific criminals. Epstein and FOTUS, for example. And they deserve me as a juror.

I had a lot on my mind I wanted to write about tonight. But I got to scrolling through my screenshot collection on Xitter.

I LOL’d pretty hard at a couple jokes I wrote. Then I remembered those funnies came straight from Mom.

Head over troll feet, hah. Among others that I published where no one could see them.

I love that my lone female stalker isn’t within my line of sight anymore. Though I will never be far from hers.

She’ll probably have a NYC trip booked after tax season, since I just got there twice.

It doesn’t take a crystal ball or tarot deck to predict. But I’ll be lovingly unaware.

You can have Havana Central. If you like the garbage Key Lime House serves, you’ll love this too.

In any event, I love that Joe Biden brokered a ceasefire deal in the Middle East today, just hours before his farewell address.

It really is the end of an era. Gotta conserve our energy for resisting now.

I read today that my beloved Dave’s Killer Bread — which is tasty AF and also the company hires people who’ve been incarcerated — is owned by a terrible MAGA type company, Flowers Foods.

I mean, boycotting Carrie Underwhelm / Temu Taylor Swift at Hitler’s swearing in isn’t exactly an inconvenience.

But losing out on Epic Everything bread? That one’s gonna hurt.

Anyway, I really appreciate those who give me all their energy. Speaking of New York.

But, I humbly ask you use it instead to make MAGAts cry.

I’ll be all right without you.

Now go on now, shoo.

Yesterday I made a big Freudian slip at my staff meeting.

I said “my resignation for 2025” and not RESOLUTION. Whoops.

My department is under strict scrutiny this year. It’s a Four of Swords moment for me — there are still solutions to be found. Here’s to finding them before they ask for a resignation.

That resolution is to stop saying, “If I were (department) director.”

I fucking am and the time for dreaming about how to improve things is over.

Improve them or die trying.

Gonna die anyway. Might as well have some good stories to tell on the way out.

Very interestingly, I was given two projects this quarter that should have been in my purview all along.

I mean, I’m kind of terrified because I’ve talked shit about their previous home. No Freudian slips in me believing I could do better.

So now I gotta prove it. And I will.

Anyway I gotta reset my brain on the rest of my resolutions/intentions. I already failed at one, which is to eat good food and not get fat on crap.

I literally just came back from New York where I had a pass to eat terribly and I didn’t. But I came home and raided the Costco food court. The fuck, Goddess?

I did do something I’m good with, which was say no to something at the Kravis Center.

I mean, I’d have fun and I may still do it. But I thought, meh, I want to go back to New York sooner rather than later.

That sixty bucks can be a cab ride. Or a good meal to make up for that Cuban mess we had on Friday night.

Kelly was like who from South Florida goes to NYC for Cuban, like we don’t have 40 places within driving distance?

It wasn’t my pick. My ass would have been at Lillie’s.

But I will celebrate the company and the black beans.

And the fact that I was smart enough to pick up two sandwiches at Boluud because I was at the airport long enough to eat them both.

Maybe I’ll put that $60 toward afternoon tea at Cafe Boluud. That ought to get me two tea sandwiches.

Anyway, the 14th was Orthodox new year, so I figure now’s a good time to refocus. And if I fuck up again, Lunar New Year is just around the corner!