“Anybody who will permit himself to be called God merely to capitalize on the ignorance and superstitions of the masses has reached the depths of human depravity.”—Marcus Garvey to the AFRO 1937, Baltimore
I’m distracted as hell and I need it to stop. I need more of my free time to be consumed, otherwise to do something far more productive with it.
In related news, I’ve been extremely productive this week as far as work. My God. It feels amazing
In related news, I like how as soon as my boss returns from vacation my cuntshitass of a coworker wants to have a bonding relationship like no other. But any other time, she wants to be the fucking hair bump on the back of a fat ass neck that can’t be popped or treated. Bitch.
In related news, I’m even cool with the boss being back.
In related news, before I go to bed tonight, I MUST apply to the two jobs that are sitting in my inbox. My exodus is a must. My 40 years in the wilderness is here.
In related news, I MUST finish or at least complete 2 additional chapters of the books I’m reading.
I’m distracted as fuck. By everything. Gotta run to a business meeting (yay connections!)
Did I ever share with you my theory about out of tune pianos and how it relates to Faith?
Mr. Beatty:they're always like...fake huggy. Like...something's not right. I want hug. Like a real hug.
Me:that's not churchy, those are religious hugs. Churchy hugs you get from tent revivals along dirt roads. The kind that feel like either a massage or like all of earlier today is melting.....by way of the Holy Spirit. Religious hugs have hats with matching suit-dresses and caked on make up. Churchy hugs have fans from nearby funeral homes and floral print dresses that could easily pass for housecoats. Religious hugs pop gum while churchy hugs discreetly pass you pieces of butterscotch to hold you over til the benediction. There's a difference. I like to think I give churchy hugs. I don't wanna put my arms around no maw'fucka if I'm going to be fake about it. Don't fake touch me cuz you might get your fuckin' fake on me. When I hug it's because I wanna really greet you, feel you, or fix you.
20 minutes in the kitchen. De-scuzz the stovetop, wipe down the counters, throw away the gross food in the fridge. If you see it, clean it. You’ll be surprised how much you can get done in 20 minutes. If the washer’s done, put your stuff in the dryer. If there’s already stuff in the dryer, PUT IT AWAY. Like, AWAY away, not languishing in a basket.
Get out of your bed and pay it some attention. Throw your bedding in the washer before you start today’s adventures (and then add detergent and start the washer, smartasses). Be honest, your sheets need washing, don’t they? If not, or if you don’t have access to a washing machine right now, MAKE…