When it Rains...I Don't Care

 Would you look at this! A second blog post in a month. What will I think of next?

It’s still along the same vein as the last one, griping about this, that, and the cryptkeeper’s effects on her caregivers, but to clarify:

A) I’m still not “on” facebook. I can share this post on facebook without actually going TO facebook, and that’s fine by me. Except I can’t see any comments, unless Tammie remembers to share them with me. Every time I think about pulling up facebook on my phone or computer and checking things out, my stomach does this thing that feels a lot like wanting to barf, so I play a game of solitaire and go work on my article or a manuscript or a painting or a card project or baking...

B) I have gone beyond the wishing-I-was no-longer-here feelings and am now firmly ensconced in the I-feel-nothing stage of whatever the hell this is. I suppose it’s a scary place to be, because there’s a tiny part of me that asks, “what will happen if something goes wrong, will you be able to help?” and to be honest, I don’t know. I could pretend, and if that gives comfort, then fine. Whatever. But that’s the deal, everything is just “whatever.”

What.Ever.

Things can still piss me off really bad, probably more so and a lot faster now than before. Just recently I was placing an order online and there was a problem with the address. Because we have a P.O.Box, getting things delivered can be a problem. Not all delivery services will accept a POBox address. That’s fine. We also have a street address, but that one is NOT the address registered with the bank. So, I have to have separate addresses for shipping and billing. Most of the time, it’s not a big deal, however, the business where I was attempting to shop insisted the two addresses be the same, and they do not deliver to POBoxes.

Enter the bad Karen. Bad Karen WILL make you cry and wet your pants, because while Bad Karen has been trying to play the game by the rules, the rules are broken so it doesn’t work. After 30 minutes of attempting, and failing, to make the address thingy match up, Bad Karen was ready to make a phone call that would definitely ruin someone’s day/week/month/whatever. And I didn’t care. I was gonna make all those Karen memes look like child’s play when I finished my phone call. I was gonna dump out my drawer of offensive language and personal attacks to mix in with my rant AND I was going to start the whole thing with them. I didn’t fear hurting someone’s feelings. My “anger filter” has always been fear that I would hurt someone’s feelings or ruin their day just because I’m unhappy about something. But that filter is gone, Bad Karen has no fear and I was ready to go raw on someone.

Thankfully, my Tammie filter is still working and disaster was avoided (she took away my phone). This means at some point I’ll be able to attempt to do business with that company again (since they’re the only store of their kind within a two-and-a-half-hour drive). If the order doesn’t go through because of sheer stupidity on their end, then they’ve lost a sale and I don’t fucking care.

Whatever.

So, am I ok? I don’t think so, but I don’t care. There’s a big hard lump where my all my feelings used to be and anger is all that’s left. It’s pissed off at everything, and most everyone, but I don’t care. I will probably punch the first person who tells me to “smile” or tries to tell me, “it’s not so bad” or “other people have it worse” or even say those things as a joke, because it’s not funny. It hurts.

It fucking hurts, and I’m furious. And I don’t care.

Will there ever be any blog posts that AREN’T fueled by rage? Will I EVER feel like a decent human being who can enjoy watching puppies play, chatting with strangers in the grocery store, or sunsets at the beach, or funny memes on facebook? I don’t know. It will depend on several things over which I have zero control.

So, if after all this you still want to contact me, come on over to the blog and leave a comment because that’s the only way I’m going to interact with anyone online for a while.

It’s been a rough four years with a pandemic chaser and for us, we have a side of old woman to go with it, so I know I’m not alone. If you’re feeling much the same as I am, let me know and we can rant together at the blog.