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Jerry Falwell’s funeral was today. And I’m a little bummed because I had planned on watching it. Mainly to see which (if any) Republican candidates for president might show up but also because WBC were supposed to show up and protest.
My mom has been at me for ages now to go through my apartment and gather up stuff to give away. So I finally acquiesced. I’m sad to say my miniature pool table did not make it. I can only hope it will give someone else—like it gave me—five minutes of joy before it ends up in a closet somewhere. It wasn’t easy to part with.
Other than that, good riddance. I keep too much crap around anyway.
But—happy accident—in cleaning out my car I found a box of books in the trunk. Full of all my yearbooks and Bloom County books. All of which I honestly thought I had either thrown or given away years ago. I have yet to crack open the yearbooks, as pictures of me in grade school are more frightening than anything. But I did flip through the Bloom County books. And got a little nostalgic for the good ol’ days when scandals were fun. Like the PTL or Mary Kay cosmetics animal testing.
Ever get just exceedingly overwhelmed by all the bad shit out there in the world? That’s where I am this week. Just overwhelmed by everything.
And all I want to do is curl up in my bed and hide under the covers with my cat for the remainder of this week. And I can’t even do that.
This week is so fired.