There are a number of reasons a person might start up their blog again and get all jazzed about it then suddenly stop posting. These reasons are not dramatic. I’m depressed. I’m tired. I don’t want to do stuff. I feel shitty and heavy and foggy much of the time. It’s not fun. I can’t even get my shit together enough to put together a mailing list for those of you who want to get notified. I’m a secretary for crying out loud. Would you email me if you want an email when I post? Then I have something staring me in the face.

Thank you for giving me grace.

So it’s the worst that my last post was about my glasses of all things. DUMB, the things I chat about. But I do like my new glasses. Heh. Also, they were only $300. Apparently I exaggerate, or just don’t know how much I spend on things.

I did write a post the other day, and I never believed people when they said this, but hand to god it disappeared and didn’t save. One day before, Tim had done something with the site’s….Security Certificate? And anyway, since I believe strongly in Occam’s Razor I am sure it had something to do with that. He strongly denies it. He only believes in Occam’s Razor when it is used to shave someone else’s mistake.

Aaaaand my boss (sorta, they changed everything recently) just walked up and was like HEY I’M NOT GOING TO DO (this thing that was supposed to take up his whole day) and I’m like, OH THAT’S GREAT. It’s not great because now I can’t sit undisturbed, typing away.

I’ll come back later and tell you about my cruise and how I didn’t get COVID but went to an Administrative Professional’s Day Lunch and sat right next to a gal who had COVID. I still didn’t get COVID, but god damn. Turns out it was a mini spreader event because my friend Penny who was sitting to the infected’s other side now has COVID. I do not, unless I got it from Penny, who was at the office with me two days later. We gossip in whispers, and oftentimes don’t have on masks. But I feel fine. I also had the second booster two weeks ago, so one would hope that would help.

So my cruise. We didn’t get COVID there either, although we did get a notification that we had been exposed, like literally 2 weeks later so…heyyyyy Norwegian, thanks for the heads up. I would assume they notified everyone on the cruise and there were 4000 people on there so..our odds were ok I think.

It was a nice cruise – we’d been on it before, but we like this particular ship (Norwegian Encore) and itinerary. Actually I don’t care a lot about the itinerary because I like cruising and not visiting random islands, but we did enjoy St. Thomas. We took a cab to Sapphire Beach and had hamburgers in a tiki hut. I put my foot in the water because you gotta, and then we took a cab back to the ship and went to the spa.

I wrote the above SO LONG AGO. I have finally reached the point of boredom that I forced myself to continue this post. Believe me when I tell you that I do my best. I really do. My best isn’t very good, but I am what I am. I doubt I’m going to change at this point.

Mainly I am unhappy. Like all the time. I spoke to my psychiatrist who blew me off and said, “Well, you have a lot of stress Jane. It is not surprising that you don’t feel good.”

No shit Sherlock, I swear to GOD I should have gone into psychiatry. It seems pretty easy.

My therapist mainly yells at me and tells me to not do stuff that upsets me for the love of God and I finally got assertive with her and said, “LOOK I JUST HAVE TO DO SOME OF THESE THINGS SO YOUR JOB IS TO HELP ME FEEL OKAY ABOUT IT.”

Mainly she tells me to completely avoid my parents and you know what? I CAN’T. Yes, they make me anxious and spent their whole lives dedicated to criticizing me and guilting me and placing unrealistic expectations on me and being openly disappointed in me, but LOOK, you can’t just ignore a 90-year-old woman forever until she dies alone. At least I can’t. I don’t like being around her, it upsets me, I bite off all my bits of skin and destroy the inside of my ear (I pick my ear okay? I am MENTALLY ILL), but I am obliged to do some stuff for and with her. For instance I can’t just let her deal with finances. She will fuck everything up and we need every cent of her money because god knows how long she and my dad will live. And I can’t let her fall for scams and call people about “Medicare Advantage” and send money to those fake animal shelters. Damn, I have had to talk her out of Medicare Advantage a million times and it scares the shit out of me that she could go behind my back and sign up for it. She has the greatest Medicare plan that they ever made. They don’t even offer her plan anymore because it’s so good. I finally told her that Medicare Advantage is for poor people and I think that did the trick. It’s not exactly for poor people but reminding her she’s rich always helps in any situation.

At least once a month she opens my dad’s bill from the memory care and then calls me and asks how we will possibly afford it and how long will this go on, and I tell her for the 100th time that she has enough money.

And every day that passes she gets more racist and I won’t stand for it, even though she’s old and things were different back then and blah blah. You’re never too old to change and I swear she does it just to piss me off.

Maybe I’ll write another one of these-I don’t have shit to do. Byebye


  1. It’s too bad your therapist can’t understand that NOT dealing with your parents’ BS would cause you more stress and anxiety than dealing with it head on. It’s a hard place to be in and the only way out of it is even harder. So it sucks. Hang in there, that’s all I got.

  2. Hey! I didn’t know you were doing this again. Can you let me know when you have a new post? I’ve always enjoyed your writing.

  3. “At least once a month she opens my dad’s bill from the memory care and then calls me and asks how we will possibly afford it and how long will this go on, and I tell her for the 100th time that she has enough money.” — Oh, god, yes! When my dad was in the nursing home, I DREADED the bill because of all of the drama, over and over again. STRESSED ME OUT. My dad passed away in January, and while I miss him like crazy, it’s such a relief to not have to deal with that. All this to say, you’re not alone.

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