I hardly know what to say today except that the world seems much darker this morning. It's been a crazy week and I have to leave in a few minutes to spend the day doing the offering count at our church since the person who was scheduled to head up today's team cannot be there. I really don't want to do it, it's an all morning and part of the afternoon task, long and arduous. But.. I cannot say no as the other lady's father just passed.
Plus after that I have to come home and scrub the house. Found out yesterday afternoon that some of Jim's friends from his old job in D.C. are coming out to visit us tomorrow, which I'm really not ready for. I'm still dealing with the kids cat Mary being too senile to remember where the litter box is and the fact that the chilly weather has kicked up my aches and pains. Plus I wish they would have consulted me, I will not be here when they visit either because I'll be in Ch'ville in the hands of my new doctors tomorrow for much of the day to discuss what's going on with my asthma, my bouts of MRSA and blood sugar ups and downs. Their sudden decision to come down just adds to my stress because I know, as much as I love my husband, that his contribution to cleaning up for their arrival will be nagging me about the multiple litter boxes, the random cat crapping everywhere and other assorted smells connected to Mary's senility.
Yeah, I'm a whiny bitch, that's for sure, but these things are mere pesky flies. The darkness and feelings of melancholia are due to crazy things way beyond my control. Like being triggered by the recently exposed words of presidential candidate Donald Trump. I think any woman who has been sexually assaulted or raped is likely triggered right now. If that is 'locker room' talk we need to burn down the damn locker rooms.
Add in the hours of research I'm doing on an unpleasant project, push back and MRA dudes at work and the fact that it's turned cold here and I'm cranky as fuck, just like Mary the cat. Looking forward to the NLQ live reading tonight because the tequila I'm going to consume during the reading cannot do anything but help lift my mood. I wish I could toss all my responsibilities today and just simply stay in my studio and paint. Working on a huge canvas of the Paris skyline in Autumn. I need to finish it, I need a break.
I'm not going to be speaking any longer in this space about the Carol Ann Cole murder case. No matter what tact I take someone gets offended. One of the family members is rather upset right now, to the point where she posted a comment at NLQ trying to debunk a lot of what I'd written. Here's the thing, the things I've written come directly from easily available documents anyone with Google can find, I've not named a killer, I've not definitively come up with a motive, a method or anything else, I've just started discussing possibilities and labeled them as such, possibilities. I have to wonder why even talking about the fact of 'could haves' is so threatening and frightening to people? It's what good journalists and investigators do, look at all the possibilities. Another interesting assumption is I keep being told that by writing about this I'm making people believe this is a solved case. Again, no way! I'm only writing about it because it's unsolved, a huge mystery even to this day.
Maybe I'm just cranky because I've had to deal with and ban huge piles of Duggar fans and Men's Rights Activists from NLQ. I need a mental vacation.