His belligerence is never ending

I think I’m going to have to stay off of Facebook for a while. Especially in the current state of mood I’m in, the fuming and fussing of all that surrounds #45 is making me peevish and thinking dark thoughts. Every photo of him shows him either snarling, looking pissed or smug. I have yet to see one that shows him in a flattering light. Never mind the constant accusations of the other side which bemoans every evil attributed to his power.
I tell you, we need to shun him. He only feeds on the attention, either praise or scorn.

I wrote an email to Nancy Pelosi in response to her DCCC mailing about supporting Democratic candidates to beat back the Republican held house and Senate. The letter carped on what the Democratic Party is against. But I see little evidence of what they are for. I said as much in my email and basically said, until you get your act together, I’m not going to support you.

I indicated on FB that I would go to an event on Tuesday night that my niece Jess is going to: a rally against racism at the downtown civic center. Lo and behold, Trump is coming the same day to (I think) the same location for a rally. I even got a robo call this afternoon inviting me to get my tickets for that event.

I hate confrontation. I feel so demoralized, so weak, so overcome with fear at the prospect of facing protesters and counter-protesters. Being hard of hearing is making things worse. Today in the computer lab, I told a client (with whom I’ve had a previous run-in) that his time was up in ten minutes. He called me a liar, said I didn’t know what I was talking about, and basically refused to cooperate with getting up in a timely manner. Is it a racial issue? An age issue? Both?

I complained to Ruben who indicated that the client has issues but “has come a long way in dealing with challenges.” Well, I hate to be such a wuss in the matter, so I conceded that next time I’d make sure that Ruben could witness my interchange with this guy.

What I wanted to do, was to grab his skinny black ass, drag him to the door, and throw him out into the lobby and tell him that until he learns some respect and can apologize for calling me a liar, he can’t come back.

Right. And I know who they’d be frog-marching out the back door with a thanks for your help and good bye.

These people are homeless. They’re out of a job. They’ve got mental health issues. Perhaps substance abuse issues. They’re tool kit for dealing with life is lacking some important vital tools. Poor Janice, couldn’t even move a mouse!

And yet, therein, is the presence of the Divine.


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