Randomness

I have no idea where this post will go; not sure I even care. IF anyone reads this, I don't want sympathy. I'm not even sure I want or need help. This is a hole I have to dig myself out of. 

Over all,  the impositions placed on us by COVID-19 have not affected me that much. My husband has his job, he's able to work from home, I'm retired and actually making more money than I did when I worked. Odd that. The biggest things I miss are petty, like, I'd love to be able to pick my own produce or wander through IKEA for 2-3 hours, or Michael's. The biggest things I miss are Thursday night writing/coffee dates with my bestie and going to church with her. 

But the state of the world--this country in particular--is wearing me down. The euphoria over President Biden's inauguration gave way to inertia, and now to downright depression. The right-wing idiots are still out there, Congress is full of traitors (I'm looking at you Cruz, Hawley, Boebert, McCarthy, and Greene, among others--you're a disgrace to our flag and all it stands for), and even Democrats can't seem to get their act together.

People are going hungry and homeless, debts are piling up, the virus is killing people faster than Pol Pot and yet our elected officials, our so-called representation in government can't get their heads out of their asses long enough to give a single, solitary fuck about the people who put them there. At least Pres. Biden is trying. 

So I get to the point where I'm making plans, filling out my PowerSheets with goals I know I probably won't even complete 10% of (sorry for the hanging preposition there), because I can't even get up the give-a-fuck to go clean my poor cats' litter boxes. I did actually start on the laundry. Wooo. 

It's a beautiful day, I should be out working in my garden--or what's supposed to become my garden--but instead I grab cheese, crackers, and a diet soda and eat, again, and then sit here and cry for no reason at all. I have plenty of things that will trigger a sobfest, my dog, pets in the past, my parents, etc. But I'm sitting here and periodically crying, reminding myself that at nearly 69 I'm a complete and utter failure. My kids are good, hard working people, so I have that at least. 

I just felt I had to write about this, and not in my journal, and not on FB (heaven help me lol), I have no idea, other than a couple of people, who reads this, and it doesn't matter at this point.  Does that seem odd? It's private, but I don't want to keep it private, I want it to be roughly anonymous. Like sending those radio signals out into the void of space and wondering if anyone cares....