Getting to Me

I swear!  Honest to God!

Is this not the cutest thing ever? 

What does it take to establish perspective?  The life I have, the footprint I have left, the things that will happen tomorrow that are good, the things that happened yesterday and today that are good.  (Not this frigging virus)  And I let some stranger, probably some 52 year old virgin with greasy hair living in an apartment with two cats and a litter box that needs to be changed a week ago, get to me.  Actually make that hot buzzing  behind the forehead  "symptom" of being in "trouble"  happen to me.  Actually give that poor disenfranchised  person POWER to evoke a feeling in me?  In ME?  What the fuck is wrong with me?

I am so pissed.  So very pissed.  Almost pissed enough to make that hot buzzing stop.  It is actually growing more faint as I continue to vent by causing  electronically positioned symbols to appear on a plastic screen.   Which is what I currently list WAY too high on the list of things that I consider to be my legacy.

Instead of that cute little critter on the boppy that contains my DNA. On a quilt that I made, by the way, in the house that belongs to my daughter which is a wonderful house, and a wonderful daughter that contains my DNA.

So fuck you musty lady.  Blackball me.  Smear my reputation all over Amazon with your chintzy greasy keyboard. You don't suck.  You wish you had something to suck.