Welcome to a brand new word. So new, that I’m still debating how to pronounce it.
Queensland has been doing well to contain the plague. Moderately well, anyway.
There are, as I write this, one hundred and eighty people from plague-riddled Victoria in an unknown location.
Today I learned that there was a project to build a quilt about the quarantine lockdowns. Specifically, the thing that gave the lockdownees joy during their time of isolation.
I have chronic bronchial asthma. It’s not a judgement from the heavens, it’s not an evaluation of my worth as a human being. I’ve had this since roughly eight years of age and it’s honestly been a pain in my anatomy.
If you have thrown a tantrum about something not being in stock, about being refused entry because you were not wearing a face-mask, about being told to wait your turn, then this particular blog entry is definitely about you.
I don’t want to be mad at the world, any more. I don’t want to be cross about Man’s Inhumanity to Man(tm). I don’t want to have to keep fighting so that every human on this world has a fair chance at a good life.
A good long while ago, so long that I forget exactly where I said it, I vowed to collect one thousand rejections. Replete with reviews of the rejectors and their manners in the rejections.
There’s some concepts in this entry that are probably going to upset some people, so that’s why the bumble of kittens again. Honestly, I have a lot of stress about the news as it happens, and they’re helping me too.
There’s a little piece of wisdom floating around in various formats. Twitter quote, screencap of that twitter quote, an aesthetic post containing the text but not the accreditation on Pinterest…