Waiting for the Good Days

The sun is shining bright on Frog Pond Holler today, but the wind is taking down trees all over.

It's a good day to own a chainsaw.

I wish I could say things were looking up, but a combination of a ginormous, frozen, Thanksgiving turkey, my lack of sufficient oven cleaning skizzles and a pan of cornbread have rendered my oven unusable. 

It's the cleanest damned broken piece of shit you'll ever see.

T.A. bought a little electric burner at the DG and I still have my Easybake oven (the combination toaster, baker, microwaver gifted to TA by Junior six years ago,) so we're not completely without fire, I just have to do some finagling and planning before I cook.

I am nothing if not resourceful.

Still no decision from disability. The last time I called, I was told it would 120 days (vs the 3 months I read on the internet.) So I'm counting down the days to January 10th. A word of warning; most of the information you find on the web concerning disability claims is written by law firms using scare tactics to make you think you won't get approved without one. 

Having said that, I have already talked to legal aid in Big City, but I really don't want to have to go to Plan B.

Most days, I try to stay busy. The years of neglected domestic diva duties have left me with a ton of little projects. I rarely leave the house, other than the grocery store once a month. Even then, I start sweating and shaking all over when I get to the check out line. 

It's been some months without anxiety meds.

I half expect someone to make a comment when I whip out the EBT card, so I'm like... ready to fight.

And I will pitch a bitch when they do. 

That pretty much sums up how I feel when I go anywhere in The Holler. I walk around the DG in fear of running in to Bubbles, her bubbahubby, her brother or her daddy. I don't want to see anyone from The Asylum. 

I haven't even seen Bubbles in over a year, at least, yet I have mental throw downs with her at least once a day. There's no reason for me to feel this way. I'm just constantly in a state of battle preparedness whenever I venture out.  

I've been taking St. John's Wort and Tumeric to make up for the lack of real drugs and honestly, they do seem to help some, but not 100%. 

It's tiring to walk around pissed off all the time.

As for today, it's better than most. I spent most of yesterday moving the bed and the day before that cleaning off the porch, so today I'm walking around like Fred Sanford. Other than fixing dinner for TA, I'll probably play with my wood burning doohickey and watch Netflix all day. 

This bitch is tired.

Ya'll have a good one. Fight the good fight. Stand up for what you believe in, like the Rockettes refusing to perform at the inauguration or the person who left the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to avoid the whole shit storm. It will not be comfortable. It will mean personal sacrifice. But we still have to Stand Up.



When I was a young pup, our summer day care would take us to the afternoon movies once a week, where got to see all the Tammy movies. This is how I'll remember Debbie Reynolds.