A while back I wrote a story about my first computer, and at the end of that story I briefly talked (i.e., mentioned in passing) about that one time my mother and I watched porn together—on accident. Since writing that little blurb the memory of that awful day has haunted my waking hours and now that sufficient time has gone by, I believe the time is good and ripe to explain the before, during, and after of that horribly awkward and embarrassing moment.
Ok, here we go….
I was a gentle and naïve child before this unfortunate event occurred. Our computer was brand new and after getting over the excitement of owning something so fancy and cool, I remember innocently going on a wild internet search to find an email provider (AOL, our dial-up internet provider, did not have the username I wanted available). Everyone at school who owned a computer had one yours truly was not going to be the exception.
Despite being a little sick and feeling physically tired, I feel really content right now. I feel at peace. I feel like a burden has been lifted off my chest, but I don't know when or why that burden was lifted (why was I even carrying it in the first place?). It feels strange but good. It is very rare for me to feel this way, so I am going to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.
I'm working on a story (2 GIRLS 1 CUP) and feel very optimistic about where it is going. If not this week, then the next. :)
Here are a few things that were on my mind all of last week ((Nov.7-13, 2021). (If I find this soothing I may start doing this every Sunday!)
I loathe and despise Christmas with a passion, and I hate that my family loves it so much (that last bit is me being a selfish dickhead). The holiday itself is super lame and participating “in it” feels like an obligation and a burden. This year might be the year I officially say “FUCK IT” and end up not celebrating “it” or buying anything for anyone. December is a pretty difficult month for me as is and Christmas makes it even worse. The stress and anxiety is awful and my depression sinks to the lowest of the low during this month. Over the years I have tried hinting and outright explaining why I don't like this holiday (and December as a whole) and no one ever seems to listen. My pleas as supplications go unheard and things continue as “normal”. I am considering renting a hotel room and taking my dog with me; so that I can be alone and at peace from then until the end of the year (or at least the 24th and 25th). Maybe if I'm able to “do” Christmas on my own terms my opinion of it will change? We'll see what happens...
I've been working from home for three days now and I kinda hate it. I know most people who work—and who don't already work from home—hope and dream and pray and wish for the opportunity of finding a good-paying job that gives them as much flexibility as mine does.
And believe me, I'm very happy and thankful and grateful for this amazing and wonderful opportunity (that will end sometime in 2022 once my company decides to bring everyone back into the office) but if I'm being 100% honest, I really hate that I don't have a morning routine anymore.
Before I was allowed to work from home I would get up at 6:00 AM, I would read or write for a little bit, and when 6:30 AM hit I would haul my punk ass out of bed and I would hop in to the shower. Twenty minutes later I would be out and fully dressed (in jeans, a pajama shirt and a cozy sweater), and I would spend the next 40 minutes chatting with my family, eating breakfast in unrivaled peace, and, every now and then, reading or watching TV. Once 7:45 AM hit I would walk out the door and make my way to work; (pleasantly) enjoying the sunrise as I traveled past the bougie million dollar homes on Summit Avenue and the mildly pathetic “hustle and bustle” of downtown.
[Note: I want to post this before the day ends, so please bear with me if this post seems a little chaotic.]
I am fresh off my annual Halloween neighborhood walk! We left around 6:30 PM, when the sun was beginning to set, and we returned about 30 mins ago (it is currently 8:11 PM).
The weather was perfect, there were enough people walking around (in cool costumes) to make it interesting, and I managed to eat a celebratory Halloween Caramel Apple to celebrate the evening! My baby was super happy and excited to be out and about and he got a BUNCH of compliments from kids and adults alike. He was supposed to be a Target employee for Halloween, but the dummy chewed his Target badge before we made it out the door and without it he was just another bougie dog wearing a sweater. My mother, who completed our annual Halloween walk with him because my sister and I walked to the convenience store to get some snacks, said that a couple of people thought he was cosplaying as Freddy Krueger. I guess it was too dark for them to make a clear distinction between striped and plaid shirts.
And have not had much time to do anything; hence the lack of posts or stories on this wee little (not a ) blog. I feel neutral about the way things are going, and based on previous experience it is best for me not to get my hopes up. I may write a small blurb once I've been there for a while, but, as usual, I don't want to commit or make any promises.
Getting used to a new routine/schedule is taking a big toll on the little energy I possess, so posting another story before the end of the month might be a little tricky. I will try my berry best to squeeze something out, but picking what to write and then gathering things together might take some time. We'll see what happens.
My insomnia has been awful lately and as I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep a couple of days ago, a strange series of events concerning an old teacher popped into my head. Here is that thought turned into a “story”.
A week before summer break I was pulled into a conversation held by a group of nervous 4th graders to discuss the three teachers who taught fifth grade. None of us knew what teacher we would be assigned to next year (that information was sent to us in mid to late August along with out school supplies and uniform list—-that’s right! Yours truly went to a uniform school from K-6 and I hate to admit that I kind loved it…) and as we sat speculating on the chances of being put into each class, we agreed that no one wanted to be in Mrs. H.’s class.
All year long we’d heard the angry yells and threats erupting from her room, and on more than one occasion teachers had actually stepped away from their own classrooms to tell Mrs. H. and her students to “quiet down”. Whenever this happened a polite apology would be made by Mrs. H, followed by a stupid chorus of her annoying students, and the noise would subside for a couple of minutes…until her screams broke through the stillness of the halls yet again and our teachers were forced to keep our doors shut.
My family bought its first computer when I was in the third grade. I don't remember the specific reason we decided to take the plunge, but I do remember that we had been wanting to buy one for a long time. A lot of my classmates were slowly purchasing computers and I remember jealously hearing them talk about the wonders of CD-Room games and the internet. Since we had a computer class at school, I also remember my mother telling me that I would be in charge of it, since I knew how to use computers.
I was going to begin this post in a very aggressive and Karen-esque manner, but after a few seconds of quiet meditation I have decided to change my tone...at least for a little bit.
I had a job interview (I was offered the position but did not accept for obvious reasons) last week at a Senior Care Facility (SCF) and I have NEVER felt more dejected by the state of the environment I was interviewing in in my entire life. Mind you, I've interviewed for some pretty sleazy and sketchy people, interviewed in some pretty crappy places, and have even had some strong disagreements with interviewers who were mildly racist, rude and/or condescending, but this one takes the cake; and the worst part is this: this SCF is apparently very “respected” among SCF's here in the U.S. and they operate in multiple states.
I accidentally poisoned myself a few months ago. I know that sounds strange and suspicious but let me explain. I had a dermatologist appointment on May 3rd and before going in I decided to take a shower (as one should). While showering I accidentally swallowed and inhaled shampoo and spume through my mouth and nose, and some of it even got into my eyes. The experience was awful—I had horrible symptoms (pain in my nose and throat, chills, nausea, fatigue) for three days—but while “recovering” I was reminded of the time I was bitten by a scorpion and almost died. Here is that story.