It’s been a bad week.
It started off with having to endure some seriously obnoxious behavior, after which I got dog-piled by a medical issue†, which in turn required a visit to the doc (I really dislike going to see the doc), during which visit I got a flu shot (two birds, one stone, and all that), which naturally made me feel kinda punk the next day, all of which eroded my (admittedly paltry) reserves of patience, which naturally made even the smallest annoyance loom large in my damaged psyche. And that doesn’t even take into account the constant firehose of bad news from the political world.
Upshot: I’m pretty much done with people for a while.
At times like this, I have to work hard to deny my impulses, as they often tend toward a scorched-earth strategy. I work toward this equanimity because it’s clear to me that whatever is pissing me off today would not do so were I in a better frame of mind. Hell, half of them probably wouldn’t even register as a blip on my social radar.
But not today. Oh, no. Not today.
Today, I want to take a flamethrower to Facebook. I want to block people by the dozen, pin them to the wall with nails made of their own illogic, post vitriolic screeds in the public square, and shame any and all who dare cross me. I want to weave tapestries of grief, forge chains of ire, roll wrongdoers up in both and drop them into the deepest, coldest abyss I can find, all so I might be free from their incessant, preening self-absorption.
In short, I would lay waste to the world if it gave me a moment’s peace.
But I shan’t.
Rather, I shall keep in mind that I have next week off, that the rain (which raineth every damned day since January 1) will eventually abate, and even if it doesn’t do so during my vacation, walks along the Olympic shores of Puget Sound are often better with a little precipitation thrown in to keep the pikers at home.
So, it’s thirty-two hours and counting before I can repair to my blanket fort and tell the world to go to hell for a while.
I think the world and I shall both be better for the separation.
Onward.
k
†Nothing serious, but kidney stones are not my idea of a fun time.
Unraveling Time
Desert Wind
Ploughman's Son
Ploughman King
The Year the Cloud Fell
The Spirit of Thunder
Shadow of the Storm
The Cry of the Wind
Beneath a Wounded Sky
Cryptogenesis: A Memoir
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 
Hi Kurt! The sun is shining today! Should we be singing some kind of miracle song? My greyhound refused to do her business during her outdoor visits last night. The wind was blowing my tallest firs and pines every which way, and Missy was scared to death. I wondered if I would wake up to a mess this morning, but she actually whined to wake me at 6:00 a.m. and I took her out. (The wind and rain had stopped.) I live in Shoreline, WA, so when you mention the weather, it always sounds familiar. I hope you’re feeling better.
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I’m in Shoreline as well, and right now Portia is enjoying a few rays of genuine sunshine. We might have a bit of sun for the next few days, and I hope to take advantage. A drive, a walk around the lake, some time reclaiming the gardens.
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Mine is a lot like yours, so I won’t burden you. A bit of it is worse, in my humble opinion, but hey … just want to let you know there’s room in this foxhole if you’d like to drop in.
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Oh, I know I’m not alone. Just hoping my tale of forbearance can inspire someone else to avoid murderous intentions.
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I had my first kidney stone in August. The day before I passed it I discovered that a heating pad helped relieve the symptoms.
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I did everything from heating pads to yoga stretches, plus medicines topical, oral, and alcoholic. Heat helped the most as long as I didn’t move, and even then it was hard to bear. I put this up there with my ruptured appendix on the pain scale, and this was a *small* stone. The doc told me stories that made my eyes water.
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