In which one year has felt like seven
I should instead be posting one of my many photos of the Impeachment March to Mar-a-Lago. Because, tRump is still a piece of shit and the country is worse off than even I thought, one year ago today when I last marched.
But, alas, I have more hope now than I did then. For various reasons. And I sort of need this reminder that yeah, maybe all the cool kids go to the women’s marches. But there’s good stuff out in the rest of the world, too.
I just have to find it.
I should have worked this weekend. But last week would have looked better not only on fire, but that turd should also have been ablaze in tRumpy’s gold-plated bidet and tweeted all around the world.
THAT would have more accurately resembled the alternating frozen-and-flaming hellscape that refers to more than just our psychotic weather.
We got a bonus, of sorts. I never in my life looked at a gift before and thought, wow, my morale was higher BEFORE I got it. But it was still better than hearing LVP’s name (a whole week without it!), so thanks for that.
A colleague wrote to say the place will fall apart if they don’t keep me forever. I guess I forgot to deliver the news that I CAN stay as long as I want.
That’s the rub. They gave away my title — that I worked HARD to get — and gave it to a stinky nose-picker. One whose grand talent is barking seven paragraphs of orders at random roundups of people he decides to nominate via email.
And much as I try to transition work to this guy, he only ends up making it harder for me to finish the job.
And we’re launching new projects that fall into my-now-his domain. Everyone is just assigning them to me, knowing they will get done and get done RIGHT.
I mean, I love having me some work that I, in fact, LOVE working on. But I don’t know how to get this guy motivated and frankly I am READY for a new challenge.
I am not going to let this Eric Trump looking character keep me from my destiny. Whatever that destiny looks like.
And I am BEYOND ready to find out.