Wait! Wait! Wait! Yes, I am talking about racism again but this time I’m going to make white people AND black people angry! It’s an equal opportunity piss-off podcast today and nobody is safe (unless they are Latino or Asian… they don’t have a horse in this particular race!)
I touch on why there is no such thing as white culture but there absolutely can be black culture and if you can’t directly trace where in Africa you’re from, you’re not African American. I’m throwing punches at everyone today. Will you get out without being knocked out? Listen and find out!
Let’s start off the year talking about where we were, where we might be going, and how we got there. We’ve got the usual suspects all showing up and playing their roles with me, your illustrious curator to break it all down and snark her way through while dropping a few wisdom bombs and history along the way.
It’s quintencential Tek content, from a woman who’s dragging herself out of the grave and spitting f-bombs at the absurd. Join her as she tries this once again, and this time, with… vigor?
This song has been playing on repeat in my headphones. Florence and The Machine can do no wrong. My ex turned me on to her. One of the best things he ever did.
I am trying to rebuild myself, my house, my kingdom and my legacy. From sand… from so much fucking sand.
I forget WHO I am all the time because who I am is bigger than even I can understand… and it doesn’t mesh because I would think that things would have been better by now and I would be sitting in my strengths instead of trying to rebuild yet again… Because just when I think I am getting to where I think I am safe and secure, people kick my castle down again. But maybe that’s just it… I burn, I rise, I burn, I rise. This time has just been really fucking hard (impossible).
I’m praying that my luck changes going into 2024. It’s time… It’s time for me to have a good run again.
Along those lines, I’ve been productive the last few days which I hadn’t been in awhile. That’s 100% because I finally had some recruiters call me about jobs, which gave me hope, which gave me some fire.
God(dess) give me one good final run. I’m terrified because everything the market says is that there will be more layoffs next year and that means even less jobs with even more people fighting over them.
Random thought: I say people don’t care. I think people don’t care to help me but there are a lot of people who care. There are just more people who care to see how the story ends. I make good reality TV viewing.
I thought that today was going to be okay. I have to do the last wish of my father today which is to plant the tulips on my mother’s grave. I couldn’t do it when I wanted to do it because I had hand surgery. Technically, I am still not supposed to do it but its starting to get too late to plant so I have to do it today before the ground gets way too hard. I thought I was going to be somewhat indifferent but now I am bawling. I need to bring my dads ashes with me just so he knows I did it. I was going to put a little in the ground but I don’t have a urn… he’s just in a baggie and if I open it, it will make a mess and I have nothing to dump it in. It’s bad enough that the bags are sitting in a plastic storage box.
For fuck sake. I need some fucking help. I NEED SOME HELP.
This is the first time that I have tried typing since I had surgery on my hand on Thrusday. I don’t know if it was successful or not. Right now its sore and bugging but at least the swelling is down enough for me to type it seems, albeit much more slowly and with more errors than usual. I still have a soft dressing on it and the first knuckle of my thumb is still MIA due to swelling but hopefully this was all worth it in the end. I just won’t know probably until December. I can’t lift anything heavier than 10lbs with that hand until then. But if I can, if it’s fixed? I can lift weights again and that will bring a small joy back into my life. Well we’ll see. Next Friday I go get my ankle looked at. My thought is probably its going to be a call for physical therapy then when that doesn’t work (It won’t, the ligaments are fully torn) then it will be surgery there too.
But small wins, eh?
I don’t really have much to say. I do but nobody cares. Nobody listens to me. People only want you in their life if you will fuck them, give them money, do something for them or are fake happy 24/7. Being an old, fat, ugly single woman past menopause means that I have no value to society anymore. ((shrugs)). But I didn’t have value before except for the reasons above so in actually, I never had value to anyone. Nobody ever cared for me. Nobody ever will and finally, FINALLY, I have accepted that. That’s why I quit social media, emailing people, texting people… they never spoke back to me or reached out to me so I knew where I stood. I just never accepted it. Now I do.
It sucks, I was totally alone in the hospital which was more embarrassing than anything else. You know you are pathetic when nobody cares enough about you to be there when you get out of surgery. It was embaressings more than it hurt.
Such is my life. But at least I can type again. Small things, I guess.