Minx was a lot of fun! I don't think I ever finished it but I should.

Binged most of the season tonight and it got me through a miserable evening of illness and stress. I love an edgy groundbreaking show as much as anyone, but sometimes a cozy, low-key, lighthearted comedy, expertly executed, just hits the spot.

Thanks Ärvinski. I am a huge baby when it comes to gut issues so this has really knocked me down, but trying to stay positive!

The Non Pornographers was right there

Guess it’s back to the drawing board for my cozy splatterpunk book

Stone cold classic

Thanks FB!

I’m not…though the doctor thinks it’s diabetes related (I’ve had type 2 for a while)

Thank you

“Sometimes they had a little party before they did it.”

Carol causing millions of deaths when she loses her shit reminds me of social media, where the need to purge dark stuff conflicts with not wanting to depress or trigger anyone. It's frustrating because it's true—being super negative around people is corrosive. And yet...and yet....

Sidenote: Did you know??? The Elisabeth Kübler-Ross Five Stages of Grief describes how people who are terminally ill deal with their *own* death. They were never meant to apply universally. There is no roadmap or blueprint for grieving. No right or wrong way to deal with loss.

Sometimes you slip and say something mean or ungrateful. They're shocked and hurt, and you feel like an asshole. So you keep quiet and wear the mask. It's you who ends up walking on eggshells and managing other people's feelings. It's the price of not being alone, but it can be a huge strain.

Something that gets left out of the traditional grief narrative is how oppressive and isolating being around people can be. You don't say it because it would be churlish to be hurtful to people who mean well. They want to help, but your pain is in a place beyond the hope of comfort.

So much about Carol feels recognizable. Her reactions to the unconverted who are making the best of the new reality. The misery and self-hatred she can't medicate away. The push-pull of wanting to be alone but needing human connection. Wanting to blow up the world because fuck everybody.

There's resentment towards a world that keeps on turning despite your tragedy. I've been shattered, and everyone's out there living their lives. Like I said, it's irrational. My father died. No one gets to be happy. You didn't know him? Too bad! I shout as I knock the ice cream cone from your hand.

Part of it was utter helplessness. Luckily, I had the chance to say goodbye to my father, to hear him say "I love you." But there wasn't enough time for everything. When someone dies, wherever you were at with them, that's all you'll ever get. That door closes forever.