Today I actually really do want to smoke weed or have a drink. I’ve been doing pretty well with not thinking about that and taking it in stride, for the most part.
But I got worked up from going on a mini Twitter rant basically about my grandmother-in-law’s racist anti-Muslim tweets, and a few family members’ overall need to bash all Democrats even when I and my Democrat parents don’t bash all Republicans, because we’re all family.
One such Republican-in-law liked it, I think he’s the only one of them on Twitter, and I don’t know if he actually likes it or just wants me to see that he saw it. It could honestly go either way. He has a better head on his shoulders than a couple of the rest of them. I haven’t taken him off my news feed like I have the others (yes, reading between the lines you can see that I go to their individual pages to see these things and get worked up).
Sorry I’m not sorry. It’s okay to have differing opinions on foreign affairs and budget priorities and even border control and gun control and abortion. It’s not okay to be blatantly racist and repeatedly spread hate on your page about a particular group of people.
The next time she gives my son money for his birthday or Christmas I’m tempted to donate it to a Muslim cause in her name instead.
And putting the racism aside, it’s pretty shitty to repeatedly say horrible things about *all Democrats* when she/they know I and my Democratic parents can see that. None of the three of us call out all Republicans like that, ever. We’re all individuals. There are shitty people on both sides of the fence.
What to Do With Myself
I’m putting off working on my novel until Dan buys us a new printer. We can’t currently print. I can’t keep working on it chapter by chapter without having pages laid out in front of me I can see with the overall storyline, things I have to keep in mind as I go along, and at least two pages per character with their backgrounds and whatnot.
I kept turning off my phone hoping to not talk to anyone or be tempted to look at racist shit but then I actually needed to use my phone and turned it on.
The last time I turned it on my mother messaged me immediately like she was watching me. I didn’t answer and won’t go back on Facebook again this evening so she won’t see I’m “active.” To be fair, she hasn’t actually messaged me fairly recently, but I don’t want to get into a back and forth conversation right now.
I don’t have a huge interest in TV watching right now. Theo is sleeping. Dan is videogaming. I’m not noveling. Already did yoga. What the fuck do I do with myself.
I used to love to get buzzed and watch a show I’ve already seen 800 times, but that doesn’t sound good sober. My soap operas are so so and I’ve been watching sporadically. If I could get really stoned I would probably find something shiny to look at and get distracted until bedtime. Just kidding. Sort of.
So I guess it’s reading a Stephen King book until the end of time.