My world is a dumpster fire

And I’m not the only one.

Until May (okay, the last week of April) I counted our family very lucky and privileged. We had our jobs, my kids had their health, and nobody had done anything particularly risky in terms of exposure to COVID-19. My local Wal-mart did an okay job filling our orders, and our local grocery store is quiet, fairly well-stocked, and everyone wears their masks and other PPE as required.

Okay, my world isn’t a dumpster fire yet.

I am still employed, and my employer is working on the PPP loan application to keep me that way. My children have access to the healthcare they need, and we are able to take advantage of that healthcare now that we need it. Our local hospital is doing what seems to be a very good job at keeping the people who come in safe — taking temperatures and being flush with hand sanitizer at check-in, limiting visitors (or in some cases, eliminating visitors), making sure everyone has a mask.

Other people are still dealing with worse conditions.

Single people whose industry has shut down so they have no employment and limited means to create additional income are still taking their skills in hand and producing PPE for local hospitals, doctors, and nurses by the bushelfull.

Single moms who normally do very good business in the real estate industry now having to take a job delivering pizza to make ends meet because there is no other money coming in now that real estate is designated unessential in our state. The only state who has done this, by the way. The other two have now deemed real estate essential.

It’s worse for others.

But it’s still not good here.

I suppose if we’re not exactly at the dumpster fire stage, we’re absolutely at the stage right before that. What would you call it? Maybe the “dumping scalding grease on unused toilet paper and lighting a cigarette while leaning against the dumpster and flicking your match into the steel pot” stage. The match is barely lit, embers flaring in the rush of oxygen, and it’s descending quickly. Maybe the match will lose its flame before it hits the oil-soaked TP, or maybe it’ll send it all up into a fiery ball of rage that takes off your eyebrows and teaches you a valuable lesson about coffin nails.

I dunno.

I’m going to make a video along these lines later today (I hope), but here’s the thing: “thoughts and prayers” are shit when that’s all anyone offers with a shake of the head and then moving on to the next exciting tragedy and there’s no action behind it to stop the tragedy from happening again. But when you literally can’t do anything to help (there’s nothing that anyone outside our household can do to help, we just need to take one step at a time to get through it), thoughts and prayers are helpful.

I’m an agnostic atheist, and I do not believe in the Christian god, or, honestly, any others, but I do believe in the power of positive thinking. No, it doesn’t make miracles, but positive thoughts (also known as prayer) has benefits.

So if you have positive thoughts or prayers to throw my way (after you get in all the people who really need it), I’ll take them.

Loves.

2 thoughts on “My world is a dumpster fire

  1. I believe in the loving purrrwers (powers) of cats. At least you’ve got those.

    I know a few people who are breaking out the marshmallows to roast around a dumpster fire, even if it’ll kill them. And my fire extinguisher is just as empty as yours sounds.

    2020 with flying cars and robots in every house? Nope. The scifi authors dropped the ball, the dystopian ones underestimated it.

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