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Aug. 5th, 2019 01:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeSo, the day didn't start out great. Woke up at 4am for no goddamn reason, rolled over, went back to sleep so, fine, woke up again with my alarm from a dream involving my acoustic guitar that my uncle gave me that I've had for twenty plus years getting stolen by some teenager and smashed. So I'm already not happy. Roll over, turn off phone alarm, see something about what I think is the Iranian government revoking status something something and what turns out to be the Indian government being an absolute shit about Kashmir. That starts out awful and the only way it didn't get any less awful is that now there's two countries being dicks instead of one country being a tremendous saber rattling dick. It's like pre-asshole country voltron. Then I spent 20 minutes trying to figure out what the fuck day it was, why I was awake, could I go back to sleep, had I forgotten to do something, what was I supposed to be doing, what the hell day was it. (Monday. I was fine. Just very, very disoriented.)
Then as I'm getting the day going finally this happens.
Boy: *comes home* So, there was a shooting at work yesterday.
Me: *record scratch* What.
No workers were hurt as far as he knows. The little he knows is that he was pulled into a conference when he got in to work and told a guy had shot and killed himself in the parking lot, I can't find anything in the local news about it. I have no idea what the hell happened. But after this weekend of how many mass shootings were there? I've fucking lost track. That was not the thing I wanted to get up to today. Very nearly called in to work all "NOPE not coming in fuck everything I'm going to sleep for ten hours."
I can't fucking even with today. The weekend wasn't bad, I spent a lot of time being tired and frustrated and sad and really fucking angry, but I also got a good class done, we got some errands run, got a bit of house cleaning done although not as much as I think either of us wanted. And of all things, I was walking down the block to do the Harry Potter do and there was a fucking Papasan chair sitting by the side of the road with some records, art, books, other stuff. No yard sale sign so I knocked on the door a couple of times, lugged part of the damn thing back to my house since it was a couple blocks away, went back for the stand and this time the woman was out front and I asked if I should give her some money for it or something, and she said "Nah, you might want to clean it it's been collecting dust in the basement, I'm just glad it's going to a good home." So... HEY free Papasan chair go me. The universe wants me to finish my damn office already. (Seriously, that's pretty much the last bit of my office, except that I want to get a couple more shelf sets built.) (Also I'm going to spray it with various cleaners at least twice more.)
I got a fair bit of writing done, although not as much as I wanted because when is it ever. But I got some writing done and more to the point, a bunch of stuff organized. So with luck progress can keep getting made. In fact I know progress can keep getting made, it's just that I'm so goddamn tired from the weekend and this morning and every other thing and I don't want to think about much of anything. I want to go back to sleep. I want not to engage with the horribleness of the world. I want to Doctor Manhattan myself the fuck out of here.
And. Heh. As I was updating Twitter on how I'm doing (not in immediate danger, but not well) I realized that apart from the Chicago bullshit, the other two major shootings that I heard about this weekend both had an element that was personal to me. El Paso, the guy specifically targeting Hispanics, shouting about a Mexican invasion, etc etc. Dayton, well, we have friends who live there. When I lived in Cincinnati we regularly traveled to Dayton to hang out, go out to eat, do things, have fun with friends. Whether or not anyone I knew was hurt or killed, that's definitely going to have an effect. A bad one.
I'm gonna go home and drink cider and watch The Crow now.
Then as I'm getting the day going finally this happens.
Boy: *comes home* So, there was a shooting at work yesterday.
Me: *record scratch* What.
No workers were hurt as far as he knows. The little he knows is that he was pulled into a conference when he got in to work and told a guy had shot and killed himself in the parking lot, I can't find anything in the local news about it. I have no idea what the hell happened. But after this weekend of how many mass shootings were there? I've fucking lost track. That was not the thing I wanted to get up to today. Very nearly called in to work all "NOPE not coming in fuck everything I'm going to sleep for ten hours."
I can't fucking even with today. The weekend wasn't bad, I spent a lot of time being tired and frustrated and sad and really fucking angry, but I also got a good class done, we got some errands run, got a bit of house cleaning done although not as much as I think either of us wanted. And of all things, I was walking down the block to do the Harry Potter do and there was a fucking Papasan chair sitting by the side of the road with some records, art, books, other stuff. No yard sale sign so I knocked on the door a couple of times, lugged part of the damn thing back to my house since it was a couple blocks away, went back for the stand and this time the woman was out front and I asked if I should give her some money for it or something, and she said "Nah, you might want to clean it it's been collecting dust in the basement, I'm just glad it's going to a good home." So... HEY free Papasan chair go me. The universe wants me to finish my damn office already. (Seriously, that's pretty much the last bit of my office, except that I want to get a couple more shelf sets built.) (Also I'm going to spray it with various cleaners at least twice more.)
I got a fair bit of writing done, although not as much as I wanted because when is it ever. But I got some writing done and more to the point, a bunch of stuff organized. So with luck progress can keep getting made. In fact I know progress can keep getting made, it's just that I'm so goddamn tired from the weekend and this morning and every other thing and I don't want to think about much of anything. I want to go back to sleep. I want not to engage with the horribleness of the world. I want to Doctor Manhattan myself the fuck out of here.
And. Heh. As I was updating Twitter on how I'm doing (not in immediate danger, but not well) I realized that apart from the Chicago bullshit, the other two major shootings that I heard about this weekend both had an element that was personal to me. El Paso, the guy specifically targeting Hispanics, shouting about a Mexican invasion, etc etc. Dayton, well, we have friends who live there. When I lived in Cincinnati we regularly traveled to Dayton to hang out, go out to eat, do things, have fun with friends. Whether or not anyone I knew was hurt or killed, that's definitely going to have an effect. A bad one.
I'm gonna go home and drink cider and watch The Crow now.