I can’t decide how I should handle having left a baby shower early after I’d brought in a half wrapped present in an Amazon shipping box. I felt totally out of place and realized I didn’t have to be there, so I left. I was getting too hot in my sweater and the place was getting too loud for my tastes.I thought of giving excuses tomorrow. Saying I suddenly felt ill seems the safest, but a large part of me wants to say, There was no beer and Ty was pinching me. When he started hurling spitballs at me, I was out of there.” But in point of fact, I left because I felt like a loser. but leaving didn’t solve that. I had a beer when I got home, due to the tension it caused. I did feel my time would be better spent out in my garden, but my impulse is to send my blueberries down the hill. I pruned them with abandon. I moved the iris haphazardly. I got rid of the crocosmia mess, and now, I don’t have a clear idea what to do. I think I’m going to work on removing the vinca minor, but it’s just now blooming. What am I going to do with all of it? I think I will chuck it between the stairs and the cliff wall. I’m thinking of transplanting a few things there. There are a lot of mature ferns I’m going to move out of my flower beds. I think I need to move the rose out somewhere. It’s not good where it’s at. There are far too many Pulmonarias, but I’m all about trying to establish them in difficult areas. I want to post all this somewhere, but I don’t think I know any of my passwords to get into any of the blogs I have started and abandoned. I spent a bunch of time tripping out on Luigi Speranza’s facebook page. He is a dues-paying member of the Coos Bay Garden Club, apparently. So I got into my blog, but I’m not sure how. If I post now, do I really want to go into how I have seen such ugliness in myself lately, I can feel it starting to pull at me. I think of going out to dinner last night. I have a bit of an amusing story to tell about it. Johnny was haranguing the waiter because there was an entry of vegetarian something or other with a scampi sauce. I don’t know what he wanted the waiter to do about it. He went to verify there was no meat in the sauce with the chef, but that didn’t make Johnny satisfied. I think he must have wanted the waiter to come back with a sharpie and either black out the word vegetarian, or the word scampi. The waiter stayed bright and chipper, and I think he liked me personally because I looked him in the eye and saw him as a real person who did not need to be bothered by the likes of some hair-splitting asshole, really. Yes, I felt my guy was being an asshole, but my Mom sided with Johnny, saying the waiter did not seem to understand the issue. I think he understood perfectly, but what was he supposed to do beyond what he did? Contact the corporate office and demand they reprint all menus immediately?
I got Grammarly because my typing is shit lately. I’m suspicious of it being some sort of data grab which is apparently what runs the world nowadays. I realize I’m not in the blog I thought I was. this is the one I had decided to promote my audiobook business with, but I’ve given up on that avenue. Will I give up on the gardening, as well? that is a big part of my overwhelm. If I give up gardening, what will become of this place??? The brambles will shortly take over. Johnny would probably cut back the brush around the blacktop so we could get back and forth with our cars.
This has wasted enough time. I’m putting it out there in the universe, knowing that no one will care at all. If there is ever any response to this, it will be from a bot or a spammer. I don’t fucking care.