Just a quick side note here as I spend the next fourteen hours manifesting a Big Daddy Carney win for my country tonight. We need the grownups back in charge, in Canada and in the world at large, because according to the newspaper the president of the United States thinks he runs the world, and um, sir? YOU DON'T. You're actually somewhat of a joke to the rest of the world and don't minimize that thought. The rest of us are out here trying to make the world a better place, trying to fix what's so horribly broken and you, well, go off into the dark never to return. I'm still amazed when bad people soldier on and good people disappear. This is a whole big allegory for Jacob and Caleb but whatever. Today is about politics.
I'll talk to you about that on the other side though, because this is hardly a soapbox, this little dim, dusty corner of the internet where no one reads because I don't have the patience any more to do anything productive, it seems. I clean and garden and keep fresh batteries in every random shelf clock and game controller and the bills are paid on time and there's a spare of anything you might need tucked away. Your towels are fresh, the green onion roots are trimmed short, the planting pots are ready for seeds and the tops of the ceiling fan blades are dust-free but can I think?
Sadly no.
I am going to head out in a couple of hours with PJ and do an apocalypse run. That's when we stock up on things like his favourite pop and toilet paper, medications and MREs. Then we come home and evaluate our stocks and go bags and plans. It's a spring tradition now. He loves to prep and I sleep better at night somehow. Or maybe it's just me letting go of the extreme need to Look After Everyone. Henry will be twenty FOUR this summer. Ruth twenty-six in the fall. The dogs are all gone. The cats are all new and weirdly independent and the boys have all settled into a seemingly content early retirement, something I never expected as it seemed like I would fight through every last moment looking after my Collective all the while they were looking after me too and the only way to manage so many years of extreme stress was to write it out.
The stress now? It comes and goes, like my writing, sadly. I've spent all of the years since the pandemic trying to organize my anxiety into something manageable. I've got a dozen letters for labels and I'd rather be nameless and unknown. I've got time and money and no need for the complications of either anymore.
I've got big plans and they involve running away, as ever. Usually that signifies an extreme case of cabin fever, but it's not, it's something else and I don't know what, exactly.
I'll figure it out and let you know. In the meantime, vote for the good guys. We need THEM to run the world.