When Dreams Of That Great New Job Turn Out To Be A Steaming Pile Of Shit
I didn’t quite realize how all-encompassing my anxiety had become until my underutilized and undercompensated predicament invaded my dreamspace.
I didn’t quite realize how all-encompassing my anxiety had become until my underutilized and undercompensated predicament invaded my dreamspace.
Yep, one. I sent one fucking email today. And ransacked the house looking for my half & half. And wrote this.
Some Fourth of July food for thought.
Maybe I’d have a bigger positive impact in my community by keeping a few of my self-righteous opinions to myself and rolling up my sleeves for some real work. Maybe we all would.
I’m not willing to say the reason the bad thing happened is so the good thing could follow, but I am willing to entertain the idea that we can persevere and grow and help create a new path with multiple events that define us.
I’m not a huge fan of these extreme ways of protesting. Like many, I cringe a bit watching someone gleefully torching a flag or turning their back when our national anthem is played.
I hope he has a family and a daughter of his own one day. I hope he gets that opportunity I didn’t have to teach his daughter all those important lessons I didn’t get to teach mine.