got home around three

  1. My feet are screaming blue fucking rapine and unlawful confinement.
  2. There were at least two thousand people at the Kinder Morgan protest. Media says one thousand. Lefties saying six thousand. I can easily believe that many people came and went, but there were two thousand people there when I was there.
  3. My feet, they are very unhappy, ditto my legs and hips. I am glad I bought that sturdy stool for Jeff, and sorry I’m using it more than he is, although he’ll get his chance when he goes camping this summer. I walked six uneven hilly kilometres today and honestly I’m really really feeling it.
  4. Coyote from today

Another protest

Off to the Kinder Morgan protest this morning. For once I don’t have to go all the way downtown – it’s at the tank farm in Burnaby. I don’t intend to get arrested, although there have been four arrests already.

Walked and talked for a while yesterday with Paul. I saw the counsellor on Thursday, and it was really funny, while talking to Paul, I mentioned the many, many things that are devouring my attention so I can’t write at the moment, and Paul said, well what about “This?” and I said “I didn’t even bring that up,” and I laughed because despite how horrible the situation is, it wasn’t even 10th on my list of the horrible things that are on my mind right now. THAT problem I have a fix for. It’s a stupid fix with nothing to recommend it except that I can look at a calendar and say – this is the best I can do and fuck all y’all.

I keep thinking I should cry, and I did cry a couple of times yesterday, but my tears dry up because a) I don’t really feel it and b) I feel embarrassed to give my grief any purchase. It’s as if I don’t believe I’m justified in feeling this blue – that I just have to power through it.

Then the counsellor says she’s going to a conference at the end of the month about how to offer counselling support while the Cheeto in Chief’s in office when I mentioned that GEE IN ADDITION TO ALL THE THINGS I legit can be unhappy about there’s that nuclear missile adjacent asshole so I guess I’m not the only person getting my joy killed.

However I imagine I’ll have some joy next weekend – hoping to make a run to the Island with the grandson and mama.