writing is hard.

tonight i've seen videos of police wrangling protestors in Baltimore, of people on the streets reacting to the death of a young man with irresponsible violence and fully justified anger.
i also watched a clip of the President of the US participating in one of my favorite comedy sketches (and, in the process, revealing some nice humanity).

these events happened very close to each other, physically. i enjoyed watching one and i needed to watch the other. but only one was really in the news. a lot. and the other i had to dig through social media to find information on beyond one or two articles.
guess which one's which.



this week my depression has been a hand on my shoulder. not trouble, exactly-- no raincloud following me around and ruining everything, no pit in the ground waiting to swallow me-- but there. present. heavy and just the tiniest bit threatening. i'm working two part-time jobs and one unpaid one, but there's -$1 in the bank, and i'm running through my newly acquired SNAP benefits faster than i'd like. we're not starving, though, so that part's working well. but my car payment is a week late and i don't get a paycheck from either of my jobs for a week and a half. and there's no way i'm going to make rent without using the very last of our savings.

i'm almost tempted to drive to Washington, find a dispensary, relax in a park in the sun, let it all go for a while. but that would take money, i don't think they take food stamps. and i have to be up at 6 for job #1.
i wouldn't anyways.


i miss my sister. and my best friend.
but, even then, in a distant (hand on my shoulder) kind of way. like seeing stars in the corner of your eye; not being able to see it when you're actually looking at it.