I Reserve The Right in Book Seven: Reconstruction 2020

I reserve the right to be sad. I know I say this often. I know that I have lost readers as COVID makes every damned entry for all of us a case of “second verse same as the first, a little bit louder and a little bit worse.” But today is just another one of those days. My friends are announcing weddings, engagements, and babies. People are talking about how excited they are to go back to “things as normal.” But… none of that is me.

Friends invited me to go camping this weekend. They know how hard all of this has been on me. And I could not say yes. Because I am soon going to be required to interact (face to face) with a lot of people that don’t get to DECIDE whether they come face to face with me. So… going camping with a dozen friends from the most densely populated area of our state? It just… it is too much of a risk. Say one of them was asymptomatic and passed the virus to me. Let’s say (as unlikely as it is) that I was asymptomatic and then passed the virus to one of the parents/defendants/victims I am required to interact with? That’s the thing I can’t grasp about the evil bullshit out in the world right now. If I, through my actions, was responsible for someone’s death?! Are you serious?!

And so I, my attorney friends, and others who refuse to watch Fox News remain determined to shelter as much as we can. Because the very idea that this whole bullshit has gotten politicized is ridiculous. But… it is only now really starting to sink in how significantly we’ve lost Iowa. Iowa has entirely fallen to the King, Ernst, Trump, Fox News hellhole.

In a way? This is karmic pay back. “Martha”… fuck it, her real name isn’t that unique, I chose “Martha” because of how eternally pissed I am at Zack Snyder and David S. Goyer… NANCY was the perfect example of permanent existential conflict. The questions of “the world” were always in her mind, but she never spent any time trying to answer them. She only used them to make excuses for why she couldn’t ever do anything ever. AND she found the perfect partner for enabling that. Because honestly? I understand all the existential questions. I am currently grappling with them myself. Thus the phrase “karmic payback.” But I can’t just sit here in fear, uncertainty, and discomfort. I am… dare I say… obsessed with trying to get some damned answers! Existence is MORE than simply sitting around hoping that something makes sense and connects with you by simple chance. Damn! I’m curious, ambitious, and passionate. But… being forced (and I’ll continue to say forced even though it is my choice because I understand how to read a medical report… like, literally. I took one of the nation’s only expert witness Law School classes which literally trains you to understand and dissect medical opinions and reports)

Bah. I walked away from this… made dinner… dealt with the dog being super whiny… then dealt with the dog demanding I play with her and.... Bah.

This is.... this is just a massive existential fuck you. “You don’t get to take a vacation. You don’t get to date. You don’t get to have a FWB. You don’t get to enjoy anything. You DO get to have three of the most important legal cases of your life. You DO get to have the most pain you’ve ever experienced. You DO get to be part of a government that is trying to support Trumpism while trying to keep people safe… which is ridiculously self-contrary for some reason!?!?!

Honestly? Diplomatic veneer off? Civility gone?

I want someone to love me and take care of me.
I want to love someone and take care of someone.
I want someone to give a shit that I’m dealing with some incredibly dark shit at work.
I want to care about someone’s work goals.
I want someone to care that I am going into the office 3 times this week.
I want to care about someone’s health and wellness.
I want TO HUG SOMEONE.
I want someone to want to hug me!

And you know what I’ve realized? As dark and sad as it may be?

I married Nancy for a very specific reason. IN 21 years of life… I had never met a woman who
liked to dance AND
liked Star Trek AND
liked Star Wars AND
liked Comic Books AND
liked to read AND
liked Marital Arts AND
was attractive to me AND
liked me.

That’s it. She ticked those boxes and that was enough to marry her. But you know what?
That woman no longer likes to dance
she likes Star Trek but expresses that through complaints because she hasn’t seen Star Trek Discovery despite having Season 1 on bootleg DVD.
She likes Star Wars despite the changes… she can’t discuss the differences between Trilogy 1, 2, and 3… she thinks that they are all “equally good!”
She loves the “Sandman” Comic book series but has little interest in anything else.
She stopped reading almost as soon as we got married,
She stopped doing martial arts almost as soon as we started dating.

So.... that’s where I am today. :(