Hurry Up And Wait

Things are happening fast, even though each pause feels like I'm waiting forever. I may have cancer. Considering the family history, it's more likely than not. Things have moved quickly over the last couple weeks. I should know by Monday whether or not I need to see an oncologist. I'm really pissed that kayaking season could be interfered with. I have things to do. I don't have time for crap like this.

Well. Damn.

Been a helluva week. Gunny gone. Harry Anderson gone. And now Barbara Bush. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know she hated Trump. Don't care. She was 92 years old and still sipping bourbon and when she was First Lady she was lovely.

Huh.

For a couple days I've heard PSAs about there being a major US-wide emergency alert test. Our phones would scream horribly (first time that happened I was so startled I launched the phone into the air...), followed by a message that would explain that it was just a test. It's 9 pm. My phone has been on and with me all day. I just realized I never got such a test.

So Am I The Only One...

..who has become uncomfortable with any firearms dealings that require the gummit to be involved? I mean, maybe anything in my future may be cash and personal without a paper trail. And then there's the $#!÷$ that scream that we can't say anything because VICTIMS. Sorry but you don't know us or our lives. My sister's boss was shot and killed during a robbery years ago. As was an acquaintance of mine. And a dear, sweet man who I had hopes of becoming my step-father had his brains painted all over the wall about 13 years ago. By a guy he was trying to help. Wes was that much reviled species known as a Christian. And it got him killed. I don't know if the perp is still alive - it was one of those stupid things where he was caught with Wes's stuff and pled out to avoid the death penalty- but it's arrogant as hell to think shooters don't know the pain of victims of gun violence. The difference being that we know what tools are.