So the weeks are just flying by like Marjorie “Traitor” Greene (of the Jewish space laser delusion) on her MAGA broom!
AGMA could have sworn I wrote my last post only a couple of weeks ago. Hmmm – nope!
What a sh*tty month it has been news wise.
For my own survival, AGMA has had to regularly turn off the news and not look at social media. While this feels a bit like being an ostrich, I think we’re all entitled to a mental health break every so often. Please.
And with the news of this past week out of Afghanistan and the Rethuglicans efforts to gleefully politicize the murder of our service members and Afghan innocents, I’ve been watching re-runs of Bob Ross’ The Joy of Painting 24/7.
That could be an exaggeration.
Of course the COVID-19 Delta variant is causing ERs and ICUs in states with low vaccination rates to fill up again. Dangerously so. It’s estimated that nearly 100,000 Americans will die – most needlessly – before the end of this surge.
Who knows how many desperately needed doctors, nurses and other medical support staff will quit from hopelessness, trauma, and sheer exhaustion with this spike of unvaccinated people getting COVID.
Have you heard about the Lambda variant? Coming soon to a hospital near you…
And AGMA needs to go into my address book to remove the names of four friends who have left (3 way too early) our dangerously warming, chaotic, COVID infected planet to fly high with the angels. I’m hoping that they might put in a good word for those of us left behind because we sure do need friends in high places right about now.
It’s been a hard summer.
And now a hurricane is bearing down on New Orleans with a predicted life threatening storm surge. Sadly many parts of the city haven’t recovered from Katrina in 2005. And unless some miracle has occured, much of the city is still below sea level.
Oh, did I mention my new neighbor decided that he hates (I mean really hates) Hubs and I because we are not Trumpers? The minute he found out last January, he stopped talking to us and has been everything you expect a MAGA crazy to be.
He turned a creepy dark magic voodoo statue on his deck to face our townhouse for a couple of months. That was bizarre.
He plays ultra right wing talk radio on his back deck all day loud enough for us to hear when we are on our deck. So very relaxing.
He ordered two dogs that his poor, long suffering wife was dog sitting, to eat our cats. They didn’t. I think they’re closet Democrats.
And just this morning, he posted this sign on his deck right above our deck pointing toward our back door.
I think he needs to cut back on his Ivermectin.
Is it any wonder that AGMA has developed a new obsession to help ease my angst from a world gone mad?
Comfort eating has always been a thing with me, but it’s gone up to a whole new level with COVID and everything else that seems out of control.
At the beginning of the pandemic, it was mug cakes. A year ago, it was peach/blueberry crisp. This past winter it was hot fudge sundaes with home made hot fudge.
No wonder AGMA gained 14 pounds since March 2020.
With my 50th high school reunion (OMG!!!) looming in September, I decided I need to try to at least try to fit into my pre-pandemic clothes. There is no way in h*ll that I could ever be my svelt 115 pounds self of 1971. That ship has sailed into the Bermuda Triangle, never to be found again.
AGMA has been making progress.
With my knees (sort of, kind of) not causing too many problems, I started run/walking again. And I’ve built up to run/walking a 5K every time I go out.
However it’s been beastly hot and humid here in Chicago for a good part of August. And we watch our grands pretty often. The running has been spotty to say the least.
But I was making better choices with my diet. Less sugar, more fruits and vegetables, fewer carbs.
I finally, after a lifetime of searching, found my one true love. In the candy aisle of Jewel Osco.
AGMA has downed two bags of these puppies in the last week to steady my nerves after going back to listening to the news. The 2nd bag was half empty by the time I got to the checkout.
Like Girl Scout Thin Mints bad.
Even now, I find myself wondering if I have the energy to drive the 5 minutes to get to Jewel to buy a bag that would probably be empty by the time AGMA goes to bed tonight.
I do have some “gummies” that could help take the edge off. Did you know that recreational cannibis & products with THC/CBD are legal in Illinois?
Don’t judge me.
But 1/2 of a gummy would not be nearly as orally satisfying as my sweet, soft, delectable Australian delight.
I think I need a cigarette.
So it looks like, until the earth starts to cool, vaccination rates rise to 95%, the Taliban surrenders, the GOP rejects the politics of fear & hatred, my friends stop dying, and my neighbor turns into Mr. Rogers, AGMA will be “pleasingly plump” for my reunion.
There are far worse things in the world to be than pleasingly plump. Somebody like my neighbor for example.
I’ll try to lose weight for the 60th.