what is going to happen when my google or apple cloud finally runs out of space? do all my books and pics disperse onto the internet like so many raindrops? or will it be more of a disaster

like Lisa poking Bart’s new “MOTH” tattoo I feel the annoyance of my small hut of a home as next-door neighbor to a big, empty, two bedroom—you guessed it: Airbnb. owned by the landlords I pay. my unfortunate lil anarchist heart (tattoo). 

Deets goes out in her winter jacket now. I can’t stop giggling when she wanders around in it. the clothes are wearing the kitten.

instead of a “to do” list I pretend I’m at an inclusive resort and this is the menu. I have choices, and if I’m starved I can get multiple from each course. my body demands three square meals. today I’m starting off with an amuse-bouche of exercise followed by a mindfulness appetizer. for my mains I will be tackling designing the curriculum I plan to teach, and homework for the classes I attend. if I have room for dessert I will review my bank accounts and recurring payments. there will be leftovers; I never waste food.

when an emergency vehicle goes down this quiet country road with the lights on and the siren seemingly at low volume, the first thing I want to say is a prayer of sorts for everyone involved. then I wonder if animals stay away because that vehicle was going at quite a clip and there are animals running around all the time. are the lights and siren enough or do they have a cattle thingy. the word “everyone”, to me, encompasses. I say my sort of prayer again.

remake of The Fast and The Furious original with queer, trans, female characters in the main male roles. everything else should be an exact replica with the sole exception being pronouns in the dialogue. only the actors change.