So hey there, it's my birthday! I'm sick (for the first time in ages, probably as the sole result of all my recent crowing about how long it'd been, either that or a booger-faced baby I recently smooshed) but oh well, today is still a win because 1) I could take time off from work to get better without anyone going without and 2) as of today I have reached the mean survival age of my primary genetic diagnosis. So whatever happens from here at least I haven't made the statistics any grimmer for the next generation! Whoo tits!
I'm considering going to the march in D.C. if I'm totally healthy by then and it seems safe (WTF with dismissing the head of the National Guard troops mid-ceremony, Trump?). I really want to show up and help overshadow the inauguration of our Presidential Usurper, and have a place to crash and a ride-buddy, but we'll see. I was supposed to be in D.C. on 9/11 and ended up staying home with Baby Big Child. Sometimes staying home is the right choice, but if I do go I'll post pictures.
I am SO GLAD I left Eclecstasy when I did! My current employer as a much smaller business doesn't offer benefits to line-level employees until you've been with the company a year, and my anniversary is in May. Holy hell, I could NOT have done four more years of that place, but if I still had insurance through them I'd be afraid to leave...
Scary times, friends. How are all of you doing with all of this? I'm still in the denial phase. Surely Congress, or the U.N., or Justin Trudeau (oh please let it be Justin Trudeau) will pick America back up, clean our skinned knees, fix the chain on our bike and send us back on our way, RIGHT?
Don't answer that until I'm healthy enough to drink again.
Sent from The Precious