Karen’s got the “sapphire” blues

I should not be posting or blogging anything today, or any day. but especially today.

I woke up with bad hair and a bad mood that lies somewhere between Lucy Van Pelt's and the Antichrist's,  with an active hiatal hernia that's yielding loud, annoying belching sounds that perfectly complement the loud, annoying sounds  that my poor husband makes as he tries to deal with allergies by blowing his nose. by blowing it a LOT,  as though he's going for a Guinness Book World Record.

I decided to relax on line, but my cell phone needs to be taken away from me or classified as a lethal weapon, because I simply cannot type a single cohesive sentence without Auto-correct getting some kind of sadistic jollies by thwarting me with every touch of the "keyboard."

(Last month, I tried to type how adorable it was when my great nephew tossed sliced up bananas to a squirrel on our porch, and  that bitch auto correct turned it into "sliced up babies.")

So I can't type on my phone, and because I still think it's 1990, I can't type on my computer either, because AOL thinks it's an absolute riot when you type in "Facebook" and everything  comes out in Mandarin, or I type in "Google" and all that comes up is everything I've googled in the past week, from Brian Wilson's drug addictions to when to take  hiatal hernia  symptoms seriously.

I wanted to relax with Wordle, as I always do,  and what does my computer screen show? 

 None other than the SOLUTION.

I don't want SOLUTIONS..I want PROBLEMS.

And I have them..plenty of them..as in the first world kind.

I'm in the 90's because of AOL and the 50's because of carpooling, (yes, gas prices are high, but we don't have to ride to the post office in one car, unless you're volunteering to parallel park for me.  I feel like Betty Rubble, accompanying Wilma Flintstone on errands)

I'm not posting things I should be posting, I'm posting things I should not  be posting, and instead of getting the attention and laughs and camaraderie I crave, I'm just stirring empty pots.

Hey..I KNOW I'm a Karen.  I've known since I uttered my first sentence, which, according to my mother , was something like "Want ice cream"

I'm still not convinced the Karen  perjorative wasn't created by someone who has actually met me, but man..I'm not a happy camper today. 

I have so many Facebook folks that I love that are battling REAL issues--serious illnesses and money problems and living in cities where mass shootings occurred blocks from their homes.  Europe in on fire, airport runways are melting, monkey pox sounds funny but it's no laughing matter,  the January 6th hearings are gutting me because I'm afraid there will be no consequences, and here I am, being the Karen who is inexplicably freaking out because of a new pool liner and a "This is Us" Emmy shutout.

Stop it!!  Yes, I KNOW what I sound like!! No need to remind me.

  

 I had a long discussion with my brain this morning as we tried to cope with the bad cowlick and the annoying belches and the blown Wordle:

I think I have a form of SAD, that Seasonal Affective Disorder that people get when the light becomes dark, the disorder RATIONAL people get when December comes and days are shorter and colder, not irrational idiots like me who miss their old  pool because it  looked like Jamaica.

Before getting the new liner--the one I PICKED OUT(with fashion/designer expert, Tami) I'd swim in the pool where every leaf would be on full display, including that leaf that floated by me one time and I saw  it had ears and a tail. At least, I THINK I saw it..I was too busy screaming to  fully concentrate on what I was seeing before my very eyes.

I noticed that the shiny vinyl  of "Jamaica" was fading, that all the "danger" and "no diving" signs had disintegrated.  There were gaps at the top that sagged, and I'd occasionally see a poor, starving slug try to inch its way to safety. 

All of that has now been stripped away, and everyone's bodily fluids are now gone forever, down the drain.. and yet..yet..I fret.

I am crazy AF!!

Sapphire blue IS beautiful! 

 Fine jewels are composed of this color.

Yes, maybe it's not aquamarine or turquoise.  It's also not charcoal black or vomit green or pumpkin orange!

It is inviting..and I am inviting my brain to stop and smell the roses, because they smell awfully good. 

I exasperate myself..anyone reading this has my sympathy.

Wanna come for a swim?  You can carpool!