Hello, Bitchfaces. Seems we meet again.
If you’ve been here for longer than 4 and a 1/2 minutes, you know that idle time allows me to get myself caught up in The Dumb Shit. It’s simply a fact, at this point I don’t even try to deny it. I’m going to be 100% involved in fuckery if you leave me to my own devices.
It’s the reason I work so much. I stay constantly grinding because if I don’t, there’s gonna be some fucking nonsense. Swear to God, I don’t even look for it, y’all, that shit has like an airtag on my Kate Spade or something.
I’m going to need to start another business or something, because I’ve had too much time to think, and it’s never the thoughts I should have, like how to overthrow a small government, or desalination systems that would allow me to kick it on that Key that the Key deer swim to and thumb their noses at everyone from.
Nope. It’s always “what in the fuck was this bitch thinking?” I’ve rerun the same 5 plays for the last 16 seasons, but every time I have more than sixty seconds of quiet time, I’m x and o’ing the same dumb shit on my whiteboard.
So, I’ve been doing some grant writing classes, you know, to fund the tiny land of freedom. Been looking into some dogs. So I can have one who actually doesn’t roll their eyes and sigh at me when I speak. Started that new project, still writing some columns here, there, and everywhere.
It’s just not enough. There are unresolved issues in my brain, and they’re getting some real ants in their pants.
Used to be, unresolved issues melted itself into free verse and I poured it onto the paper and moved on with my life. Doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. Although, to be fair, I did go through that whole block incident back in 2009 that ran all the way to 2014 and I thought I would never write again.
Turns out, it was the drugs. You would be surprised how many conversations that explanation quells.
Or maybe you wouldn’t, guess it depends on the drugs you did.
I just feel like I’m missing something. All the nights are getting longer and the silence is a whole lot thicker, and I do alone much better than I’ve been.
Probably just the weather. It’s been in the 50’s, I nearly lost my toes yesterday. Y’all know I don’t do cold well.
What are y’all doing to stay out of the winter blues? Maybe I could pester one of you at your hobby for a while?
“Oh, so wait, you add the potting soil to the hole before you add the plant? Weird. How much water though? Is this enough? Too much? Oh. Well, how do I get the water out? Maybe you better do this part.”
I wish I didn’t owe the library 9.77 that I will not pay them on principle because those books were not fucking late. I don’t care if I have 9 million dollars, they’ll never get that nine dollars from me. I miss the library level of quiet though.
Probably just gonna fucking pay the people the 9 damned dollars then. I think it’s better for all of us if I do.
I’ve linked a couple columns for you that are much better than me just trapped in winter blues and not in the mood for much of anything. Seriously. They’re good. Read them.
You can come to my hovel and help me mindlessly poke yarn through a quilt for my granddaughter. Won’t take more than two days though. It’s only a full size.
Scientology is so fucked up!
Rabbit holes are the fucking best, aren't they?
I'm all about linguistics, languages, music, history, vintage ads, old-timey medical weirdness .... I don't know, just lots and lots of things!
The last rabbit hole i went down was about Centralia, Pennsylvania.