I’ve been asked if I’ll ever go back to Facebook/Twitter. That’s a definite no. Too much social media probably contributed to the worsening of my depression because there were people out there – not deliberately – making me feel like an awful human/mother/wife, etc. I know they’re not doing that on purpose but still…I just learned how to adult, okay? And get this, I can barely see far away without my glasses so yeah…my body is now catching up to my age.
I’m on Instagram. That’s pretty much it. I share my life with pictures and short captions. That’s all I’m willing to share.
Without Facebook, I don’t need to see other people’s political agenda. Phew.
Without Twitter, same as Facebook.
Without LinkedIn, no one knows where I work. Thank God.
But I did find a job. It hasn’t been that long yet so I’m not sure if I like it or not. I’ve been duped before about how great the culture is at work, blah blah blah, then it turns out to be a cesspool of shitheads who sweep harassments under the rug and don’t even punish the perpetrators. What fucking gives?! And if you’re the victim, stop crying because they’ll just end up not liking you and come up with a ridiculous lie on why they had to fire you.
However, I was assured by HR at my new job that whatever the old job got away with would never fly at the new place because they have a zero tolerance for that kind of BS.
So yeah, the new place has the best view.
We have an open layout and I thought that would be annoying because I get distracted easily, but it’s not all that bad. Maybe because people there mind their own business and are too busy to fuck with people. They leave me the fuck alone.
I just wish I could get my depression under control. But that’s for another time. Also, I’m never going back to construction. Fool me once.
On July 21st, 2011 I adopted an orange tabby named Bob. His name is an acronym of Beautiful Orange Boy. And he is a beautiful orange boy. But he’s an asshole.
He was a foster fail. Actually, I never officially adopted him. Technically, I’m still fostering him.
So Bob has this thing of getting into shit he’s not supposed to get into. Especially like running out of the fucking house when we’re not watching. Which he did. He was gone for 12 hours and while we thought he was just hiding somewhere in the house, we knew he was out somewhere having some kind of adventure that he’s been forbidden to take.
So we sat around the house praying he was just hiding. Then that same evening, my husband walked outside the house to check the mail (don’t ask) and then here comes this son of a bitch walking in like nothing ever happened. I would share the video but I’ve been asked not to show it because a certain someone is starring in it and he doesn’t like his face online. Understandable.
But today…this morning rather…he wanted to do it again…
Now he’s just laying all over my shit trying to keep me from working (currently freelancing) and blogging.
Even though he’s been a pain in the ass lately…he’s still my #1 Kitty.
Saturday morning, instead of our usual Netflix Binge and Stuff Our Faces, we decided to clean the fuck out of the house. He knocked out the bathrooms and I cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed. I hate cleaning bathrooms. 🤢
This went on through early Sunday Morning. My house has never been cleaner.
But now, I’m relaxing. Yesterday was errands day which meant driving around in that heat. I hate summers here.
There’ll be no cleaning today except for the cats’ boxes. There’ll be no errands that take all day long.
There’s only reading, binging on Netflix, napping, making the kitties love me, rub Ginger’s velvety ears, hug my children until they can’t stand it anymore, and doing nothing.