Throwback Thursday: Assistant Fantasies of 2020

A post I made then hid a few years ago near the beginning of the pandemic response / pre-vaccines: appropriately revisited today as I currently struggle to prepare and file our late-late 2023 taxes, and feel all-too-near incompetent.

June 17, 2020

I have this fucked up idea in my head that if I were succeeding at life & work, & that was evident to everyone, that I'd never have to feel guilty or try to articulate an explanation for why I can really only interact with people an average of 15 minutes a day (which means ZERO a bunch of days) without my whole being disintegrating into a pile of raveous, barbed MUSH-diarrhea.

Everyone would just be like ... "B’s very successful plate is full, no wonder she has ceased communication & time-spending with everyone except her wife." For an average of 15 minutes a day. Because I would have a personal assistant. The kind who picks out really great gifts, & nobody would think "oh, *B* didn't actually put any effort into that ... it's her poor underappreciated PA doing all of the loving effort". No, they would KNOW my PA couldn't have been so thoughtful on their own & sent just the right thing on time very time, not without me giving them all of the most loving pertinent info, and wads of my very successful cash, and generous wonders to people who didn't even know that I cared or even knew about their stupid fucking birthday.

My social anxiety is such that I really hope more people die of coronavirus AND SOON so I don't have to explain that all of the words in my word basket got dropped & scattered around & I can't put them in & take them out of my mouth in the right order so sorry I can't even *read* your messages because then you'll just be even madder when all I do is hit THUMBS UP & go back into disappear mode.

And since nobody will prescribe me benzos I will just go prescribe myself ice cream & salt & vinegar chips & cured meats & fizzzzzzz & chilibowls & tacos & that over-the-counter lithium that hasn't been properly tested & probably destroys all of the kidneys that eat it.

But I do want an assistant. One whose feelings never get hurt & ALSO prefers the efficiency of no pleases or thank yous, and would never write a passive-aggressive Nanny Diaries Wear Prada book via twitter & would sign that NDA like she really means it, and winkingly dish out gold stars even when I barely deserve them. And respond to texts & messages & VMs on my behalf in such a way that I would never, ever have to decline any invitations myself or wonder how to say the right things. I could just not say anything.

BUT KNOW THIS: you're going to love the extravagant doohickies I have custom-made & sent to you very special delivery with the most elegant hand-tooled keepsake gift boxes. And the next thing you know, in 7 years I emerge on an elevated platform with a protective forcefield of light as a very pink but still bearded more (spiritually & ethically, not raci...omfg) evolved Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh who would never let those e-coli murders get so out of hand. Because if I'm going to feel this drained, I should at least have all the money & spiritual followers of a J(iz)Z Knight.

“It Costs Nothing To Be Kind”

I am so fucking sick of seeing this shit “it costs nothing to be kind.” “It costs nothing to be nice.” “It costs nothing to be a decent human being.”

I wouldn’t trust a dumb fuck with a dollar who says some dumb shit like that. You think being nice is FREE? You think there is an abundance of effortless zero-cost kindness TIME and energy just there for the taking? You wouldn’t know what to do with a calculator and you have no idea how to add and subtract debts. Do not give this person a line of personal credit because they’ll be overlimit in no time. DUMB AS FUCK.

You know the worst thing about these stupid dumb shit sayings making it sound like kindness is effortless and done without any kind of costly energetic expenditure? IT FUCKING DIMINISHES THE GIFTS OF PEOPLE WHO *ARE* KIND. IT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE ANYBODY COULD DO THE KINDNESSES OTHER PEOPLE HAVE DONE WHEN THEY ABSOLUTELY COULD *NOT*.

Most recently seen on a post about the recently departed and absolutely mythological Kris Kristofferson when he stood up for Sinead O’connor: “The time Kris Kristofferson consoled Sinead O'Connor after she was booed mercilessly for telling the truth on SNL in 1992. It costs nothing to be a decent human being. “

LMAO YOU DUMB SHIT MOTHERFUCKER(s).

This ranks right up there with “you got this!” in my book of barfworthy WRONG-ASS inspo bullshit sayings.

Stop devaluing acts of kindness.

Stop making the love and hard-won decision-making-abilities of people in extraordinary and challenging circumstances with extremely checkered and difficult pasts and brain wiring sound easy, because they rarely are or we’d live in a much kinder world.

Love and kindness AREN’T actually free. They are quite often costly, effortful, time-sucking, and/or noteworthy for their exceptionality.

If we had all this sweetness in overstock, your counterproductive inspo posts featuring acts of kindness  (while simultaneously diminishing their worth) wouldn't be so valuable (and people wouldn't be running around STAGING the shit, as social media influencers all-too-often do). It is only because genuine kindness and being nice is the exception and not the rule that it is worth mentioning to your followers.

It's like masking; when folks run around saying "putting on a mass is the least you can do" and "it it's easy", I want to SCREAM because it is NOT easy, and it is NOT the least one can do. It is actually quite difficult, to the point of being a handicap, to many many many of us, or at least takes some practice and adaptation to get to the point where it feels easIER. My point is that you are not going to encourage somebody to do something that is actually a challenge or hard or time-consuming or unpleasant or costly or does not come naturally or that they have a resistance to, for whatever reason, BY SAYING IT IS EASY &/OR COSTS NOTHING. When those of us who are neurodivergent, for example, ABSOLUTELY KNOW THIS IS NOT TRUE AND YOU HAVE JUST UNDERMINED YOURSELF COMPLETELY AND DEMONSTRATED YOU ARE STUPID AND/OR NOT TO BE TRUSTED.

Seriously. I am ALL FOR KINDNESS (and very pro-masking, too), but you're dead fucking wrong about either of them being free and easy. It makes people feel badly, angry, AND/or DISEMPOWERED, INCAPABLE AND INCOMPETENT when you say stupid-ass shit like this.

If you think that the reason people are not kinder is because they can't afford another debit appearing in their checking account, you are being willfully ignorant and insulting.

Neurodivergence & Bitches: Post on Hold

 I just started writing a post about neurodivergence in women being mistaken for being a bitch (and/or maladaptive workaround attempts and burnout etc manifesting as bitchy behavior). 

So I started listing just a few reasons why I know I am a diagnosable weirdo, following a few up with cursory google searches to verify the connections between the behaviors/traits/experiences/symptoms/comorbidities and autism … and I started crying.

Anyhoo … I couldn’t quite wrap up the original post due to being faced with another gentle reminder that maybe it actually *would* be helpful to have a diagnosis.

EAT (comma) SHIT and DIE

Every so often — TOO often — I find my mouth forming this curse: EAT SHIT AND DIE, motherfucker(s).

And just as often I find myself wanting to take it back. To reel it in just a bit, even though nobody heard me say it. In fact, the people I usually aim that curse at are, most of the time, not even aware I exist, let alone listening to me or even within hearing range. So why do I feel guilty about it?

Even in my bitchiest moods and full of most-righteous fury, I’m aware that “eat shit and die” is pretty fucking harsh. Like, you could write off the “EAT SHIT” part as a colorful figure of speech not meant to be taken literally, but “DIE” is so explicit. Succinct. Final. And, almost all of the time, I do not actually wish death upon the people I hurl this curse at in my head.

Most of the time in recent years, I catch myself when I venomously mutter “EAT SHIT AND DIE”. I catch myself in full awareness that even if someone could stand to be, like, reprimanded or issued some kind of citation, the punishment of eating shit and dying is going WAY overboard and pretty much uncalled for.

The thing I’m usually really mad and frustrated about is that there is unlikely to be any reasonable consequence or learning or positive change that will take place. A huge portion of my ire and extreme cursing are at the state of affairs that will allow some person’s shitty behavior to continue unchecked or even acknowledged. It’s that frustration and hopelessness that leads, I think, to just wanting to completely eradicate the source of the behavior after illustrating in the most cruel and obscene way how filthy their actions are. It’s a defense mechanism that goes further than merely blocking an arrow, but driving a whole entire homemade tank over the perceived shooter.

The more I listen to the Daily Stoic, the more I’ve found myself halting before the entire “eat shit and die” curse gets out of my mouth. In fact, I started modifying the curse into a “mememto mori”-inspired reminder to myself. A reminder that I am in charge of one person, and my job in life is to stay right-sized and in control of mySELF. I did this by adding adding a comma to the curse, and turning it back around on myself:

Eat, shit, and die.

These are my priorities. These are what I should be concerned with.

I need to concern myself with eating, shitting, and being aware that I am dying. We all are.

It is not my job to mete out punishment, especially for what are usually extremely petty crimes relative to how many people are struggling to eat (or to restrain ourselves from eating too much / the wrong things). How many people do not have access to food, running water, a place to shower or a place to even shit and wash their hands afterwards. How many of our bodies are so busy with bullshit and/or pampered with not enough physical movement and too much food that’s bad for us that we cannot shit right ourselves, even with our own private bathrooms and access to healthy food, clean water, and opportunities to unbind ourselves.

How many times have I been angry at people for something that doesn’t tangibly interfere with my ability to eat or shit? Too many times. So I’m bringing myself back to these basic human-animal needs. Bringing myself back to check on how well or how poorly I am taking care of myself to insure AND RECOGNIZING THAT THIS PERSON I’M MAD AT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. This person I am mad at hasn’t done a single fucking thing to stop me from eating or shitting, while I myself continue to lack the discipline, clarity and control to be healthy in my body even with all of the advantages and privileges and good fortune I have. And that my intense emotion directed at strangers and people who are not doing measurable or intentional harm to me is totally upside-down relative to the gratitude I should be feeling EVERY FUCKING DAY for my good fortune. My indoor plumbing and privacy. My ability to procure food almost whenever I want it from a mind-boggling array of luxurious tasty choices inconceivable to the vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast majority of human beings who’ve lived on planet earth at one time or another. HOW CAN A BITCH BE SO FUCKING MAD WITH ALL OF THIS GOOD FORTUNE?!?!?

How can I justify wasting a morsel of energy cursing people to “eat shit and die” — wishing ANY harm to anyone, no matter how fleeting, unintended, or ineffectual — when I have a cornucopia of resources available to make not only my own life so much happier and healthier and GOOD, but other people’s too? How can I pretend I’m making anything better by inflicting MORE SUFFERING (primarily on myself) in the uncomfortable and ignoble moment of making this curse?

Instead I should take each of these opportunities when I habitually wish for someone to “eat shit and die” to look at myself and what I am or am not doing to live life fully, present to alllllllllllllllllllllllllll of the amazing lucky awesomeness I’ve been given, and am cushioned and fed by. Look inward and what I can possibly do with my bounty and aliveness to be fruitful and multiply happiness and peace and sensitivity to all of the amazing sweet things that are going RIGHT all around me, all of the time.

“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” -Marcus Aurelius

I want to remember that I am going to fucking die, and it’s likely to be before I’m ready. Before I’m finished sucking the marrow out of life. Do I want to waste even a breath of life wishing suffering, disease and death on strangers? Do I want to quit the jobs that are actually mine to do in order to serve as 24/7 self-appointed judge and executioner in my own imaginary small claims court of trivial offenses? NO.

So I am practicing reminding myself to just eat, shit, and die. And once I’ve mastered those tasks (if that’s even possible), to make better choices with my time, energy and spirit than cursing my fellows.

Some Noises I *LOVE*

 I complain about noisy people a lot: people’s noisy machines, people’s noisy dogs,  people’s noisy fucking phone calls, and people’s useless fucking alarms. I fucking HATE that shit. It’s distressing, distracting, rude, self-centered and tyrannical.

But I don’t actually hate *people* in general or even all of the noises we people make. Even though I might say I do, that’s usually an exaggeration made in defensive frustration.

FOR INSTANCE:

I love the sound of church bells - any time of day or night.

I love the sound of a clocktower bonging on the hour. 

I love the sound of people fucking.

I love our town’s weekly tsunami “siren” test that sounds like a Close Encounters of the Third Kind alien communique.

And (this may come as a big surprise, but) I actually love the sound of children at play.

FOR INSTANCE:

We live near a daycare. Run by an old-fashioned woman who DOES NOT ALLOW THE KIDS TO SCREAM. They make a lot of jolly noise, but none of those piercing emergent injury or stranger danger types of blood-curdling bullshit contemporary breeders seem to encourage and/or ignore while they’re busy on instagram and texting their polyam prospects.

So the other day as the garbage truck was making its rounds through the neighborhood, I heard it down at the end of the block HONKING … followed by the daycare kids CHEERING and LAUGHING. BEST SOUNDS EVER!

I could picture exactly what was going on: the kids waving maniacally at the garbage man, begging him to honk the horn … and the garbage man waving back and making the merry foghorn blasts they requested, and them being so delighted to be acknowledged and honored by the neat-o garbage truck man.

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE  LOVE 

Small Dog Yapping

Our other new neighbor must have just moved in for real. His lights are on at night for pretty much the first time.

It is Labor Day weekend. The Sunday night before the actual holiday. about 9:30 pm.

The whole neighborhood, for once, is actually very peaceful. Except for one thing:

HIS FUCKING LITTLE YIPPING LAP DOG. It just. Won't. Stop.

I don't know if it's a situation where the dog is not used to the new neighborhood or if the people are just not home and left the dog outside with the lights on inside. Or if it's a situation where people just don't fucking care about anybody around them OR their dog.

It's the end of the summer and quite warm, so we need to have windows open to keep air circulating, not get overheated, and be able to sleep. HOW LONG IS THIS PIERCING YIPPING GOING TO CONTINUE? It's fucking INSANE.

I hate people.

Fuck The SUN

:: the beginning of August, 2024 - western Washington state ::

Fuck this fucking SUN. Give it a fucking rest, already! Can we have some fucking clouds??? Some motherfucking clouds that release RAIN?

Oh yeah ... we *have* had some nice foggy, overcast mornings. Today, for instance. So much like yesterday. Where you wake up and think, "finally some PEACE ... some light diffusion ... some softness." But by the time you spend the best of your energy doing chores and dealing with fucking BULLSHIT, that beautiful grey layer of safety is YANKED AWAY and that cuntface fire fuck is blasting daggers of sizzling bright cook-your-eyeballs energy right at your poor aching migraine head, and making it too hot to lay down and take a nap.

I want to fucking puke. I want to tell everybody to stop saying it's a nice day. It's not a nice day. It's a shit day of too much motherfucking sunshine. Stick the sun up your fucking stupid summer-vacation asses, buttcunts.

This light is KILLING ME.