STATUS UPDATE: the pharmaceutical “industry”, the medical “industry”, the agricultural “industry”, the drug “culture”, the war “culture”, the entertainment “industry”…all terrible bastardizations of perfectly good words once…”industry” and “culture”. Industrial Revolution? Remember that one? Maybe an alright concept with reservations. Culture wars, a new entry…kinda sucks! Wherein does the word “politics” land? In the mud these days…or Dante’s Inferno probably! So there, my newly prescribed Prednisone is wearing off!
I guess I shall vote soon and for womankind candidates and any Democrat on the ticket! Please join me?
I attended a local Rotary meeting recently. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN NOR LADIES! Listened to youthful Courtney Tritch who is running against faux Christian “family man, husband, father, I have a job while my girl opponent is not even married and does not really work and I am too busy to debate her” candidate from my hometown and who is funded with KOCH money and who now as a representative bought a Washington, D.C., house in addition to the mighty fine house he has here. Oh, I am thinking of weaning myself away from the pundits for the moment, too.
I had to leave Rotary in a wheelchair? I could barely shuffle out. And the dental hygienists whom I have to revisit because I have two cavities (dammit!) took my pulse and nobody can ever find that I even have a pulse at all. Maybe I am dead already? I am damned near an invalid at this point? But just cleaned up cat barf smack dab in the middle of my nutsoid living room?
I went to the most misogynistic a$$hole doc in the entire world last week. He started by praising Donald Trump’s appraisal of Stormy Daniels and it went downhill from there. I finally go to a prima donna doc and I shall not be back. I have been crying for hours now….a very abusive dude. I am just perplexed beyond belief. I hope I can figure this out really soon. Wow?
I am now on Prednisone … something I have given to a dog or two? Maybe my epileptic dog, the love of my life!
I likely need new knees. I do not want new knees. My high school gym teachers basically “broke” my knees, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not put me back together again. Me the book worm and the last chosen for the teams to play and sweat for an hour and then onto academics. Dark dark times! Ha! I am a sissy!
I MAY feel like living at least until tomorrow. I am so hyperventilatish, I cannot think! I thought the near fainting and my heart swelling inside my chest was a stroke or heart attack for about only a year. Now it has been referred to as hyper-ventilation? I’ll go with that! but doctors can be A$$-HOLES and a half!
But I am sure I am near death. I swear to God nobody is listening….ever! Chasing docs about finished me off. I knew that would happen! “Prima donna,” which I may have spelled wrong, fits them all! And their nursies, too!
I am doing my best…both physically disintegrating and verbally shouting out “hell, no!” Hope somebody is listening … after all I am just a female! Ha!
I am now on the effing doc trail…just shoot me! I hate this…running around will kill my a$$! This world is nuts…probably kiss me good-bye? I am playing DOCTOR, DOCTOR, THE BOARD GAME….EVEN TWO APPOINTMENTS AT ONCE…KINDA LIKE PROM DATES? GEESH!
I hope with my “Jame Mason / Doctor Feelgood” pills (watch BIGGER THAN LIFE) that I resurface and clean up this disaster of a house and can stand it again and not fear the end of the world, in general knowing that life can be beautiful again. I know what I am stressed about and nobody can tell me differently. The genders are all effed up and getting more effed up by the day. I blame Hugh Hefner and the “Cos.” And I don’t think I am far off. The wonderful 50s and 60s were the ship actually gyrating horribly off course!
My husband whom I refer to as “John Dixon” from vintage CBS soap opera As The World Turns swore off ever helping me with the interior of the house for good about five years back, so you can imagine. We shall see where I end up. Ah, well, at least I saved some animal lives along the way and endured idiotic humanity and snots. Let it be said.
I feel like Jack London or Emily Dickinson or maybe some Beatnik type writer all of whose names I cannot recall right now … like Kerouac or somebody or other!
I have stuff all over the place. I am drowning in pack rat crap and crippled? Burgess Meredith broke his glasses on Twilight Zone when only he (a librarian) and library books were left in the world after nuclear holocaust! That is me!
Maybe Prednisone with the resulting putty round face IS my answer. My furnace is broken and I cannot afford a ranch house nor two new knees which I do not want anyway? People my age are having auctions and God knows what else? Travelling, dying, going to retirement homes? Ugh and double yuck. Wish I knew the answer.
Life can be so weird when you slow down and think a minute about all the missteps. I flip right to the obits. Now, that’s a sign. My son is about ready to divorce me, too! I feel like a boy more than a girl, and that’s good because that is what I look like with my dirty hair pulled on top of my head. Or the witch in The Wizard of Oz. And that is the truth from the blue, blue sky.
Some day when we cannot get hacked by Russia or the FBI, we must all reeeeeeeallllllly talk.
For now then? Start giving a sh!t about pigs and cows and turtles and every living creature. Dammit. Long overdue! And stop using animal names in cliches! “He is a pig or she is a lone wolf and what a dog!” Or “behaving like animals!” We should be so lucky as to be back in that state, when we climbed outta the ocean and were pure and sweet and good! God seems to have been operating on the “Peter Principle” and should have stopped creating after day SIX!!!!!!!!!!! Animals should rule! Signed: Chuck Darwin!