Hearing President Biden has cancer has wrecked me in a way I cannot describe.
I already called this the Bermuda Triangle of Mother’s Day, my birthday and the day I lost Momma (Father’s Day).
Now hearing our guy has stage 4 with a 9 Gleason score? Fucking wipe the floor with me, I’m depleted spiritually.
Having mom be diagnosed with mets, I’d written, was worse than hearing the cancer diagnosis. But what I didn’t say was “hearing the cancer diagnosis at stage 4.”
That’s what the Bidens are going through. I hate it when it’s good people. Give it to the tRump family and all his idiot followers who put the laughing emoji on all my sympathetic posts.
I am going to meet Coke Junior, unfortunately. Someone had said to me oh I hope you run into him and I said oh I will. With a luggage cart.
It was the kindest thing I could say knowing that the company’s TerraMind was watching.
TLC just did a three-episode arc of “Sister Wives” that covered from Garrison’s suicide to his burial months later.
Honestly I thought I’d cry, heal, FEEL. But Kootie & the Browfish ruined that.
If I can look past their ridiculous antics, I can appreciate his three mothers’ grief. Plus his biological mom’s not only sadness, but her gorgeous subtle shade toward his idiot father.
Janelle spoke to my own sad heart in many ways. Like how she’s able to pull off “fine” till she talks about her son, specifically.
I got to thinking about her (and me) when I fell down some Threads rabbit hole today when I should have been writing my month-overdue newsletter.
A woman posted that she lost her Mama and her Mimi within a few weeks of each other. The grief was so great, she quit her beloved WFH job.
A few other women chimed in that they love their WFH jobs, love their colleagues, love the work they do, love the WFH itself.
But when faced with their own great losses, they needed to get out of the house. To drive and listen to the radio and be forced to be social. To quit a thing in search of a thing that better fits the shape of our grief.
Hmmm.
I feel that.
I have the best setup now. I used to work in my dark kitchen. Now I have my chair where Mom’s chair used to be. I face the sun and three bodies of water and grass and birds and nature.
I love my work. My team. My bosses. Most everyone else.
Literally living la vida Boca.
But I love being in a dress. On my feet. Being “on.”
I’m sure I’d hate commuting again. Interviewing, fuck no. Having to share bathrooms, ugh. And being nice to the people who don’t fall into the “most everyone else” category.
Still. When I read about these women who took the leap to go from being alone in a house to trying a new thing, I was like wait, is that for me?
TBH what’s for me is to meet a sugar daddy who don’t need no sugar.
I think of my friend Kim who was paid for 34 hours a week at Phillips despite working at least 45. I would know since I shared a wall with her and worked a minimum of 65.
She said at least she can leave at five-ish. Go pick up her kids from dance class. Not work a weekend if she didn’t want to.
I’d like that setup.
I’d also like to not feel so exhausted and yet not be able to sleep through the night.
Moreover, I’d like the money to go on all the trips I’ve been invited on. And to not feel absurdly lost after missing just one day of work, let alone take off the two weeks that Europe invitation would require.
(My cousin is a doctor. Not like she can doctor during those two weeks. I’d probably be working at a cafe while she takes care of her baby. Some trip for all of us.)
Anyway not to sound ungrateful because I’m not. I’m just more intrigued by how can I do this, but in like half the time, so I can experience twice as much?