So. Much. Phlegm.

[Dutch Lock Down Day Two Hundred Twenty Nine]

Yesterday P and I woke up and he whimpered and I did almost all of the morning rush hour myself and then we drove the kids to school / daycare and I made him get a COVID test and the q-tip made him bleed.

Today P and I woke up and I whimpered and he did ALL of the morning rush hour himself and took the kids to school / daycare and while I’m not getting a COVID test, it feels like sinusitis cause snot, sinuses, sore throat, and ow.

But first the news:

The BEST part is that we’re also renovating the upstairs and the construction workers are at the part in the rebuild where they make as much noise as possible with band saws and hammers and the local radio station and yelling over the aforementioned sounds so they can hear one another so I’m actually down in my office wondering why I called out sick today oh yeah it’s cause I can’t focus or breathe or exist.

Photo by Science in HD on Unsplash


Can I get a what what.

There’s a Dutch saying that I wish I could follow, but I just can’t even, but at times like this, I really wish I could – that if you stress about something before the thing, then you stress twice.

Or something.

I’m sure it sounds absolutely brilliant in Dutch.

The essence of the saying is that worrying *before* the actual event is pointless. Prepare, but don’t stress about it.

And yet.

I can’t stop thinking about the hell that my fellow Americans will go through if Trump wins the election. Or if Trump loses the election, really. The United States of America is a fucking powder keg right now and THE FUSE IS LIT. It really doesn’t matter which old white man wins tonight or however long it takes to actually declare officially official who won – the FUSE is LIT.

I just had to put my head down and breathe for a minute cause damn my heart can’t even.

Even if your old white man wins, there will be a ton of people whose old white man lost. Please don’t be sore losers. Or sore winners. Or sore.

And, most importantly, please stay safe.