The “Can’t Have Shit” Paradigm


Well, hello fine folks!

I feel like I’m on the mend. Or my cabin fever was worse than my cramps.

Made it into work this morning, bright and early at 7am…. after taking 1200mg advil.

I’ve been running around like a crazy person ever since, playing catch-me-up after missing Monday and Friday. Finally after having to carry boxes down the hall, I felt the twinge.

Nope nope nope.

I am going to have not only a productive day, but a very fucking productive day. I plan on getting shit done.

I decided to get over my laziness and call in my pain meds.

Crazier note — someone got my gmail password connected to my WP. Sign in attempt happened in DC. Government spying, anyone?

BTW, thanks Google, for letting me know.

I don’t think I’m nearly interesting enough for the government to actively spy on me. I mean, yeah, I’m probably in some data base, like every other average American. But I do nothing even remotely interesting meriting active government spying. Unless someone in the government loves my cat pictures and witty sense of humor.


Can’t resist the cuteness of Harley Cat

On a different note, apparently someone was in my car that wasn’t me.

Having had my car broken into before, with all the doors locked, I decide I’m just not going to keep anything valuable in my car. Also, they busted my passenger side window, which cost more than the nothing they took. After that I just decided, “well hey, going to keep my car unlocked so if anyone wants to rob it, they can open the door and see I have nothing in there instead of breaking my window to see I have nothing in there.”


Yep. It really happened. And I’m still finding glass after five years.

Well, I did have a box of maxi pads in the floor board.


But yeah, my glove box was open and my arm rest console was open, and I had my box with my tarot cards (don’t judge me) in my car — that was open too and my cards were all in my front passenger seat.

Probably one of the construction workers they’ve had around the neighborhood doing reroofs and remodeling.

People suck.

Or as my dad would say, “Can’t have shit.”



7 thoughts on “The “Can’t Have Shit” Paradigm

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