I’ve discovered I would rather leave than be ousted. Rejection issues? Probs. Pretty sure my Nan used to say something about a lady leaving right on time…not lingering…something like that…knowing me I’ve rehashed 3 different sayings and merged them into one of my own…but oh well, sounds good.
But anyway…this 42 days notice has finally got me spinning…jumping…thrashing about like a P addict looking for a pipe. I don’t like having shit pulled out from under me…
But that’s life isn’t it. I don’t mean the whiny…omfg, life is shit and shit changes cos its shit and im shit…I mean, that IS life. Change. The unpredictable. The natural disaster. The fucking ebbs and flows of life.
I thought I enjoyed change…another one of those crock of shit beliefs I thought I believed…but turns out I’m full of shit…
I like change…that I – I…create. That’s not the same as wisps of exotic or toxic change that randomly splat onto the window of life. Those aren’t predictable. And those are the ones I don’t like. Neither does my body.
But…I’m getting the sense that as much as I like to predict the future, hedge my bets…not in the crystal ball sense…but the law of averages sense…Life can’t be predicted.
Bummer. Has anyone notified the local fucking ptsd association of that?? We’re fucked!
And as much as the world around me seems to have its own ptsd thing happening and they’re predicting the shit out of everything past present and futuristic…they’re not right…which means shit is exactly unpredictable and they can’t change that.
So we’re all fucked?!
Ebbs and flows…change…
Breath, mother fucker…breath.