I was inspired when I woke up this morning. Something I wrote was quoted in one of two news sources in New Zealand yesterday for my activism for International Gay Red Shirt Day! I’ve never been in the news anywhere before, much less for something as huge as gay rights, as well as for my views on parenting and my writing. I’ve had a really hard time since my died died of cancer just over two years ago and haven’t done much of anything on a personal or creative (and certainly not global!) level in almost as long as I can remember.

So, I took this picture in my own “gay red shirt” and uploaded it to show my solidarity with my kiwi mates…. and then, someone hated all over it. The only personal photo in the whole album. On a picture of me, about something I stand for, my motives and priorities… I don’t even want to get into it. You can go check it out and share your own two cents, if you feel so inclined- but now, instead of that sailing sense of accomplishment and pride, I felt crushed after the personal attack. I had to retreat, play my current phone game obsession and stop campaigning for the day to try and shake off the negativity. I wondered how the 9 out of 10 LGBTQ kids who are harassed at school deal with it day after day. People can be so narrow and cruel sometimes.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten in my passionate quest for raising global awareness that here, in my apartment complex, the water was being shut off f’or repairs. No shower, no dishes, no laundry, no drinking water (or water for tea!) for hours.

Since I finally got my monthly income today, I would have used the time to catch up on some errands, but I also have a flat tire until my appointment tomorrow morning to get a new one. When my faux-hubby got home from work, I used his car to take the baby to at least go to the store for coffee (HALLELUJAH), toilet paper, almond milk, cat food and diaper/refills (we mainly use g diapers nowadays, but keep Huggies as backup)- all things we’ve been out of for days. 

After I had gotten Patrick into the ‘K’tan, I remembered that I was supposed to have gone to pay the phone bill first, but didn’t. I resigned to get through the store as quickly as possible, pay the bill and get home with dinner for the kids. When I went to pay at the grocery store, there was a problem with my card. Not with the funds, mind you- just with the card itself. The cart all bagged up, I offer to walk half a block or so, where my bank is located to pull out money from the ATM there. It’s cold and dark, but I don’t mind the night as as much wearing the baby- it keeps us both cozy! The machine spits out a piece of paper that says, “Tough shit, kid. Call your bank.” or something. You are my bank, you %&#*(@!!! I think as I return, out of breath, embarrassed, slightly irritated and discouraged.

I kind of wanted to cry.

The lady at the checkout is nice enough to let me use the store phone to call my bank- having not yet paid my phone bill- and I stand there with bagged, unpaid for groceries, mentally weaving through an automated phone banking system with a tired baby attached to my front, only to find out that they have customer service hours, and they had ended at 5, only about 30 minutes prior. sigh I knew I had money, so, as much of a suckfest as it was, I had them store my groceries while I ran home & grabbed my archaic checkbook and drove back to pick them up.

When I arrived, the store was busy. I had to wait while I courtesy clerk brought my cart out- he assumed, because of the long receipt the previous customer had left in the cart and the bagged groceries that i was set to go. “Here you go, Ma’am!” he said, pushing the cart towards me, three feet from the door and my rockstar parking spot. I wish… I thought. “These are paid for?” I asked. “Sure! As long as you have your receipt,” he said, gesturing toward the cart, “you’re okay.” Seriously? It crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe someone had watched the entire scenario and paid the small fee for our necessities. But how many people have ever done that? How many people has that ever happened to? My winds had changed for the day- I knew better.

“No… I better go back through and pay. This receipt isn’t mine.” I said. It’s not like it was hard, but I know plenty of people who, in their earlier days, would have walked right out the door. It turned out the courtesy clerk was also the one who rebagged my purchased groceries. “I get points in my karma bank for not walking out that door!” I assured him. Or me. Or something.

I came home and barely touched one of my (now deceased at 100 years old) great grandmother’s dining room chairs and it fell apart into three pieces. I got pizza all over my favorite sweatshirt, dropped nearly everything I picked up (except the baby) and yelled at the kids for being too noisy.

I am not stoked right now. 

I don’t feel capable and strong- I feel like everything I touch is just going to be randomly ruined somehow. That said- I am forcing myself, despite everything, to stick with my 30 Days of Gratitude. This would have been a shorter (or nonexistent) post, but gratitude is the most important during trying times

That said, here’s my list of (more than) five graphics I am grateful for that help me on days, much like this, when I feel like I should have probably gone to bed 6 hours ago– but the baby is sitting on the floor next to me, banging the recycling around. (Not the glass!) Ugh. I literally cannot type anymore. I have a headache. Oh, and message for anyone considering telling a complete stranger what they should do with their lives,

Come feel better with me:

How could you NOT smile?