writing

November 4, 2025

Another Tuesday

And just like that, I’m 40. It’s official. Despite all the other times throughout this past year where I kept thinking “I’m 40” when in fact I was not. I don’t quite understand it. It was almost as though I was excited about hitting a new decade, like a kid at Christmas time. Which is quite the 180 from when I turned 30. At that time I thought I was above the stereotypical “I’m dead” mentality. Plot twist, I was in fact not. I was just ignoring that sense of doom like I do with any and all of my emotions.

If looking back on 22 years with my husband has taught me anything it is that I do not recognize my own feelings. I don’t know if that was a conscious choice on my part or of it was a learned behavior. Regardless of the reason, one simple fact remains: I don’t know how I feel as I’m feeling it. It’s not until I am alone with my thoughts that I finally have found enough peace for them to come roaring to the forefront. Then I breakdown. Well, most of the time. Ninety percent of the time I do something entirely different.

My go to behavior whenever I’m feeling emotions is that I cover them with something: food, sex, buying crap. There are no ends to what I will do to avoid “being human.” And that is what has gotten me in trouble over these last few years. I did all of these self destructive behaviors in an effort to suppress whatever I did not want to face. Evidently it was a lot.

As an adult I am slowly unpacking my feelings. I can finally recognize when I am upset or bothered by something. I may not know what it is yet, but I will try and figure it out. Sometimes I do, and other times it’s a complete and utter fucking mystery. Those are the times that make me angry, and that I feel with un-tethered abandon.

So, today I will do nothing. I will celebrate nothing. There is no point when the family you had known up until now is gone. I just want this day to pass as if it never happened. It was just a regular Tuesday. It just so happens that I have been present for 40 of them.

October 27, 2025

“You and I”

One of my favorite time of years is coming up, NaNoWriMo. If you’ve been reading this trash blog for some time you will know I have done this event a few times in the past. The first time I participated, I wrote my first ever novel length work of fiction. The one I subsequently have edited the last 12 years of my life.

For this years assignment I decided that since it starts on Charlie’s and my wedding anniversary (as it does every year) I wanted to write about our life together. It was something I had come up with back in April when I had a TikTok go viral. It was a brief cut of our “Not There Yet…” video blogs along to the song “I love you, I’m sorry” by Gracie Abrams. (I’ll post it below.) It exploded more than I had ever thought possible. And it showed me that people cared. The comments are where it really thrived because I had people tell me their own sad stories or give their condolences. Of the hundreds of messages 98% of them were the beauty and kindness humanity is capable of offering.

This lit a fire in me.

I decided that I was going to write a book about our life together. I began brainstorming and came up with web outlines that really shaped the narrative of our life together. It gave me the perspective that there is something there TO share. It wouldn’t just be a random collection of events strung together with only the narrative thread that I would one day lose him. There was advice for polyamory, infidelity, growth, marriage, family, and eventual loss. And not to forget it would give my husband’s death even more meaning.

But like most of my good ideas, my enthusiasm fizzled out and I was consumed once again by the shroud of my depression. Which is fine. I’m grieving. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

To keep my idea alive I kicked it down the road and told myself to do it in November, when I have the chance to participate in the month long writing event. Also, around the same time period of when we started dating in 2003.

I had debated with myself if I wanted to keep it private or post each entry onto my webpage. What I have come to is: for the sake of uninhibited emotions I will write it for myself. Of course, with the intention that I will get it published because why would I write something if not for a reader to read it?

This morning, to get myself in the headspace to begin this month long journey, I put on an album Charlie had given me when we first dated, Jason Mraz’s “Waiting for my Rocket to Come.” It makes me think of him every time I listen to it, and of those early days. This little exercise sent me into a downpour of tears.

The first song on the album is “You and I.” In the past it never really stuck out, but today it did for the simple fact that out of all of the songs on the album (within my “genesis” playlist) this had it’s own album art. Every other track has the actual cover, where he’s sitting on a curb talking to a rooster.

As the song played on the lyrics popped. For the first time I really listened to the song, but within the context of doing this project. It felt like Charlie was talking to me, and that’s what brought about the tears.

(I would post the song for you to listen, but I am no longer using Spotify as they support ICE. And I am nothing if not a bleeding heart hippy liberal douche.)

As a result, where I had been unsure if I was really going to follow through, this gifted me the resolve to actually do it and not just say so. It was my husband prodding me from beyond the grave. Well… beyond the wood box that currently rests on my dresser, in which he resides. (I am cackling at my own joke. I hope you did too.)

@opinionatedandcrazy

My husband was diagnosed with ALS during 2020 and passed 4 years later. Even with a pandemic that didn’t stop us from doing road trips. #als #grief #loss

♬ som original – ᴀᴛʟᴀs
July 9, 2025

Fuck. My. Life.

I want to write more than I want to breathe, but my thoughts are so chaotic right now I don’t even know where to begin. It just goes to show me, once fucking again, that life can change in a single insignificant moment.

This past Monday, my boss waited until the end of the day to let me and my only other co-worker know that he is shuttering his business. He has tried to make things work but with his health issues he couldn’t keep trying anymore. Where he did (no judgement in that statement by the way) is by finding a job for himself. Last Christmas he ran into an acquaintance that dropped this opportunity in his lap. He and his wife debated whether they should. They have built up this business over the last ten years and they didn’t want to just “give up.” When he started having severe health issues they took it as a sign and kept going down this new road.

Granted, they had already started his application/interview process before the health issues arose. So severe were they that he had to have open heart surgery to fix 3 issues and, after a 13 hour surgery, he flat lined in the recovery room. Luckily they were able to bring him back.

This choice for him and his family is significantly better. He has two kids, one going off to college, and they’re both moving into the part of life where they are taking care of their aging parents. (Luckily, mine are all dead!) I’m glad he could get something that would lighten the stress of running a business. Having to constantly worry about making enough money for your employees and yourself sounds like hell to me.

I saw how difficult it was from my husband. He owned his own company and when he finally shuttered his, because the work did the same thing it’s done here, he was distraught. He felt like a failure and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. At least my hubby and boss both tried. It’s just the lack of opportunity and the fucking red tape that keep people from excelling. For El jefe it sure as shit was work flow though. He networks with the best of them.

That said… I am without a job.

That just means that the only thing left to take from me is my health. But if we’re going with the Job parable, it’ll probably be my house before that. I don’t have any kids, so they won’t be crushed when it ultimately collapses in on itself. At least I have that silver lining.

Even with the anxiety and the panic of this I could easily change my perspective. Yes, it is terrible, the menstrual “cherry” on the fucking top of my shit sundae. Y’know, the one the good lord has been cooking up for me these past 6 fucking years.

However, before me lies a plethora of choices. Three off the top of my head are: find a totally new line of work, start my own business and keep going, or take the fucking hint and move the HELL out of Nazi Germany with it’s American facade. While I would love to get the fuuuuuuuuuuck out of here, I feel like that would open up way more complications. So I’ve opted to start my own business and keep going. With any luck I’ll be picked up by ICE once they’ve made homosexuals illegal. (It’s coming. Don’t you fret. All outlined in Project 2025.)

Starting my own business is so overwhelming. I have a good idea where and how to start but… The real problem is going to be finding work. Now I can bid shit at a competitive price and maybe get the jobs. At least get SOME money versus no money. My boss was determined to charge Covid prices. Honey… not in Trump’s economy. They rather low ball you and then never pay you at all. lol (Oh, fuck… now I have to chase down my own unpaid fees. Ugg.)

That’s my life. I for one can’t wait to see what disease, famine, or torture is sprinkled on top of the sundae. Maybe I’ll just die? Nah… not enough suffering for god. He likes to watch you wallow in misery before he takes your life. It’s the only way he can cum.

July 7, 2025

Peace Out

Today has been fucking weird and I’m only halfway through.

People on Bsky are on one. However, as a result, it finally gave me the push I needed to ditch that bullshit too.

I’ve already deleted twitter and facebook, and while I haven’t deleted Bsky I did delete the app from my phone. Maybe one day I’ll return, but at this point I genuinely I doubt that. It doesn’t come close to Twitter’s former glory. I loved that app so much, but of course some rich asshole moved in and made it terrible. As most rich douche bags love to do.

The unannounced Bsky topic dujour apparently was all about Dem in-fighting. I made the mistake of commenting on an article that discussed Dem politicians getting upset that their constituents are pissed at their lack of response to… anything. At one point I had someone call me a misogynist because I said “honey,” uneducated (I graduated Summa Cum Laude), and a do-nothing leftist. As a result I am out. I don’t have the energy or time to explain myself to “nobodies” on the internet.

With our carefully curated echo chambers we have isolated ourselves so much that all we can do now is point blame at everyone else in our own circles. (I am absolutely including myself into that.)

This is what the opposition wants. They want us at each other throats. Being distracted by this nonsense, it is easier to break us into even smaller groups. Once firmly trapped in our little social media bubble, we’re too distracted to formulate into a coalition to actually do something.

I’m exhausted and I have no interest in participating with this bullshit anymore. The world around me is burning and I have no immediate power or way to put it out. I find myself at the crossroads where I can find my own joy (when and where I can) or I can make myself miserable. I’ve been miserable the last 5 fucking years of my life. I’m done.

The only part that genuinely upsets me of my social media exodus is that I am finally doing the one thing my husband had wished I had done while he was alive. That causes me a lot of guilt. So, I will just have to tell myself that, even though he isn’t here to say it, he would still want this and is proud of me.