Here’s the Cheese. Now for the Whine

Image © Can Stock Photo / profotokris

There’s a whole bunch of monkeys on my back, metaphorically speaking. Lots of them are things that I can do fuck all about. Which is an extra monkey that weighs on spine and spirit. I know damn well that there are people who can fix this, or at least take steps to fix the thing. Which makes me angry. Another thing that makes me angry is that there are people who could have prevented other things now bothering everyone I love, but they chose to ignore the warning signs and sit on their thumbs.

Most of the rest of my troubles are a combo of money and anxiety. So let’s get through the whining from big fucking boulder to teeny weeny pebble in my footwear.


It’s going to be the next hot thing you hear about in disaster news. Possibly years after I talk about it here. PFAS stands for PolyFlouroAlkyl Substances. Just like PolyFlouroCarbons, they’re dangerous to health and safety of the entire fucking world.

There’s lots of them. They cause cancer, and they’re making fucking rainwater unsafe to drink. Scientists are calling them “forever chemicals” and as the name suggests… they’re hanging around and not degrading into simpler substances. [News Article here]

Even though the use is discontinued, they’re everywhere.

There could be some smart tech made to isolate and contain this bullshit, but the rich people who can afford such research would rather have a private space agency so their junk feels 20% more awesome.

Climate Inaction

The world is on fire, falling apart, and the people who can do something would rather profit off of the disasters that they’ve let happen this fucking long. The entire world is suffering and the rich arseholes responsible for all of it would much rather complain about… (checks notes) people owning phones and refrigerators.

They want to have all the money, and then gripe about it when nobody wants to buy anything because… the people who they want to spend have no time or money to spend. Grats on freeing the face-eating tigers, guys.

You’d think that they’d wake up and realise that infinite growth is not possible in a closed system, but… eh. Rich people stupid, I guess.

They can try having mansions on the mountains of Aotearoa, they can try owning “apocalypse proof” yachts to survive the worst… but they’re going to fucking kill their entire workforce and then starve because nobody’s left to serve their pate du foie gras.

Some people want to profit by burning the entire damn world and have zero fucking foresight.

I want to smack some motherfucking sense into their thick, selfish heads.

Medical Care Betrayal

A beloved family member is facing an inevitability that didn’t need to happen. They tried and failed to get a fix for the problem when it was fixable.

Delayed, denied, distracted, debunked, dismissed and finally… denoument. Now it’s too fucking late to do anything but ease their pain and help them as much as possible in their last days.

This is a consistent fucking thing in medical care as we know it these days. Doctors would rather ignore the problem than do anything about it. Because for-profit medicine is more attractive to various sorts than actually keeping people alive and healthy. Which is what medical CARE is supposed to do.

I blame the US medical profiteering industry, and thereby the right wing, for making this chain of circumstance exist. I don’t know what the living fuck could be done about it and it’s all too late to help my fam out anyway.

Meanwhile, I favour the medicos who actually listen and insist on being a squeaky wheel to the ones who don’t.

Cat Dental Bill

My cat has bad teeth. It’s a three-figure bill to get that fixed. Meanwhile, she’s still in pain and we don’t have enough dosh to deal with it and I had thought two paydays would see it done, but… nope.

It’s hanging over all our heads and so far, the cat is just… dealing with it in her way. She’s such a little sweetheart and does not deserve what she’s going through. I feel guilty about not being able to do anything here, and being financially insecure about potentially paying it off after the fact.

I don’t know how long this can keep being delayed.

Publishing Problems

The book I am trying to sell, Adapting, has turned up missing its last thirty thousand words. This is the second time I have reconstructed those words and finished the book. I have no idea why this has happened twice, but I would accept a “small loan” level payment from any random rich arsehole for its happenstance in my life.

Fuck nickels. I want some serious recompense for this.

I have tried going to older versions. I have tried looking up other links. What’s left to us is a backup but that has its own issues. We need a cable to interface old tech with newer tech. Just so we can search said backup for a longer edition of the thing.

Only then can I try shipping this mofo out again. Maybe to make a sale. Who can say?

I have to try. It’s all I have to offer.

But we have to find the cable and buy the cable and I had a very recent panic attack caused by not having enough money to buy fucking groceries. It’s yet another expense we didn’t need to happen.


It was romantic when I re-proposed to Beloved after she came out as her true self. We did plot to get re-married as ourselves after a year of other real-life incidents.

Time is running out.

Our net progress on those plans is zero.

No venue, no reception arena, no outfits, no invitations. Nothing but the idea of a re-wedding on our side and the hope that it will all… somehow… come together.

I haven’t the foggiest where to start in the process of making my ideas come to reality, and that hurts.

Kiddies’ Future

Mayhem is looking for work. Nobody is hiring him. He can’t drive yet, he hasn’t achieved full vaccines, and doesn’t seem to be able to get out of the dead-end he’s in.

I worry about him.

Chaos needs paperwork done in order to have help from the system. Or at least to set up help and hope it doesn’t turn into “help” at a later date.

I am chronically terrified of getting it all wrong, ruining their life by accident.


All of the above is wearing me to shreds. I’m tired of it all and I would dearly love to have a nap until it all goes away. It all feels so very hopeless. Even in the rare cases that I win, it’s a win with a question mark.

I’d like a genuine win. More than a few, to be honest.

I just don’t want to turn into an arsehole in order to do it.

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