Published December 6, 2024

You know, this is all too neat and tidy, having a photo that matches the headline and the theme of the blog post. I need something that better reflects what this past month has felt like for me.

Maybe this.

Or this.

Or, considering the medications required to keep me afloat, this.

See? Already I’m stalling, avoiding telling you just how bad things are right now. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately — the avoiding as well as the telling.

The short version: Things are bad.

It might seem as if I am still able to joke amid all the threats to my peace, health and sanity, but it just seems that way. There are only so many days when I can scrape myself off the floor (to borrow a phrase from someone dear to me) for some semblance of functioning.

The bad things keep piling up. The safe places and people keep dwindling. And we’re not even to the worst of things yet. We’ve still got at least 1,506 days of this to endure, if not the rest of our lives, and we have about 45 days until we are officially in The Bad Place.

The way I expect the Supreme Court to look in four years, not to mention judgeships, there might not be another piece of progressive legislation pass on a national level for 40 years, if ever. Oh, and before you go telling me to take comfort in the potential for states to fill that void, let me say that I fully expect the “states’ rights!” proponents to change their tune to focus on nationwide edicts and executive orders under the next administration.

And I expect the next administration to lead that movement. And SCOTUS to do its bidding.

I did have a good day

The last Thursday in November was a day I’ll remember for the right reasons. I will keep the details to myself, but I wanted you to know there are kind, thoughtful people in the world who look out for people like me.

You already knew that, of course. That description includes people who read these posts. I wanted you to know there are more of them.

But the things I am not allowed to tell you are percolating enough to outgrow a bubbling cauldron, and someday soon …

That’s all I can say for now.

Why do I find it hard to write the next line? Oh, I want the truth to be said.

It will be. It’s coming.

♥

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Photo of a woman writing at a table by Silatip via Shutterstock.