I have come to the conclusion that my mother lacks empathy. At first I thought she had low IQ. But no, it’s that she completely doesn’t give a fuck about my feelings. New year is upon us and I am changing my relationship with her and calling out every BS story of hers.

I have degenerative disc disorder. I've have fairly regular extreme pain for over thirty five years. I've had operations and there are probably four different operations I'm waiting for. My pain is far worse in the winter and can be tolerable for months at a time but believe me when I say, if the average person suddenly experienced the level of pain I can deal with without issues they'd be in the hospital within the hour. My GP sent me to a clinic that specializes in dealing with pain without meds. I went and Arrived five minutes before my appointment. There was nobody else waiting. Ten minutes later four stylish twenty something kids walk out the door from offices behind the reception area. Twenty minutes later I ask the receptionist when my appointment will start (now 25 minutes late). She tells me "oh the doctors just went for lunch, they'll been back in around an hour. " First of all, if you have an appointment and you walk past the person to go for lunch without having the common courtesy to say anything to them, I have no use for you as a human being. Second, the idea of some book read asshole who's never experienced any real pain is going to tell me how to deal with pain when I've been in pain longer than they've been alive is really fucking pushing it. Talk about a misguided branch of medicine!! I left, I will not return. And there is a part of me that hopes that when one of these inexperienced "doctors" starts telling some huge guy how to deal with being in agonizing pain, they stand up and break their squeaky little mouse jaws so they get to practice being in pain without fucking pain killers. FU.

Was a major turnoff. What I described is confidence, what you described is bluster. Trump does not have any confidence, he's dumb enough to think he's smarter than everyone else, true, but he does not believe his own lies. This is bluster. It doesn't really matter tho, neither blister or confidence will help him in prison.

i choose the nice list lady and got vegan meals and an exercise partner... but there is still a temptation for the naughty list girl with the red lipstick and leather jacket.

I was shopping today and was walking past a cosmetics area. There was a little old lady having make up put on. Blush or eyeliner or something. Like the end of the Grinch, I felt my heart grow three sizes. The little old lady said to the lady putting it on her, "I wish you could come to my home and put it on me before my Christmas dinner... I haven't had my family dinner in two years." Sales are down, inflation is up, weather is chaos, but everything beautiful about the return to normal is the Christmas spirit this year.

The old guy from the third floor is losing his marbles. I don't see him often but awhile ago I saw him try to open the buildings front door inwards. It, of course, opens outwards and he's lived here for eight years. Tonight I watched him try to put his key into the front door lock for three minutes, it uses a Fob. I take this as a lesson to stay interested in things. He's the epitome of couch potato and partakes in conversations delivering nothing but made up facts followed by small town commentary. He's far too gone to save and any attempt I've made has been in vain. He hasn't learned anything new since elementary school, proud to have dropped out in grade eight etc. I just hope my life doesn't turn out to be 100% meaningless, like his. I feel like this building is cursed like some Twilight Zone passenger ship to nowheresville.

I'd be so happy to have hot flashes like I was today. It felt like a nice fall day with snow.

I’ve been working on overcoming my aversion to eye contact. I recognize there is a feeling of panic as if I’ve been playing a game of hide and seek with myself and once caught I feel found out, discovered, seen. I wonder if acknowledging the male gaze leaves me feeling a loss of innocence.

Vulnerability. I find it takes a lot to let me be myself sometimes. To allow myself to feel joy and feel pain without trying to diminish or numb the experience. As Patrick Watson sings in Here Comes the River. Sometimes you got to just…

I know it's difficult to walk on the snowy sidewalks right now. But that doesn't mean it's safer to walk in the street! Jesus, what's wrong with this city?