Ultra Cautious

My walks with my kid are filled with endless, “mind your step! Be careful! Watch where you go! Who put this here? A person can trip and get hurt! Who threw this garbage on the ground? Littering is not OK! Let’s pick it up and take it to the trash can. Careful, there’s a big puddle ahead! This looks too slippery, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go there.”

I hope everybody understands that the cautious, orderly individual issuing these statements isn’t me.

A Real High

When the analyst said that one of the results of successful therapy is experiencing enjoyment from mundane daily tasks, I thought it was a figure of speech. But no, it’s literally true.

Folding the laundry has become a literal high. I’m thinking, “ooh, this is a nice trip. Let me go chase it up with a shot of taking out the trash because I’m going into the stratosphere with this one. But I probably should delay organizing the sock drawer because I might overdose.”

Small Town Life

This is a really small town.

At work today, I sent my colleagues an email about the Central American Studies center I’m starting with some people.

Then I turned off the computer and rushed to my dentist appointment, ran into the dentist’s office, plonked into the chair, opened my mouth, and the dentist says, “So, about the Central American Studies center that you are starting. . .”

There’s no concealing anything around here.

The Real Fail

This poor child is, indeed, a victim, just like the kid she tried to stab. And it’s an absolute crying shame that her disgusting excuse for a mother has the gall to make statements and accuse anybody. She should be cowering in shame because this child’s blood is on her evil hands.

It’s absolutely unbelievable that this woman is actually pouting at the state services for not parenting her child instead of her. Again, this is a very culture-specific phenomenon. There are shitty mothers everywhere, but shitty mothers who are entitled, coddled, and celebrated are uniquely American.

I can’t understand why nobody is pushing back against this bastard’s sense of entitlement. It’s easier for people to blame a poor dead kid than a fully grown evil cow who made the kid what she was and unleashed her on society.

A Taste of Freedom

I booked a trip to Florida for 7 people. Four of them are from Canada, and what gives me the greatest joy about the trip is that four Canadians will finally experience normal life for the first time in over a year. I’ll advise them to seek psychological help to prepare. It’s like being let out of jail. People need to adapt to freedom.

We never experienced anything like the Canadian-style police state but I remember feeling weird and disoriented back in November when we went to Florida and saw crowds of people dancing in the streets, maskless, happy, and free.