This Spring has been like being punched in the face and somehow I am lucky

This spring was like a jack in the box.
It was like a jack in the box who pops up and then punches you in the face.

And it's my job that pays the rent; it's my job to turn the crank.

The jack morphs into different things whenever I turn the crank, it pops up as something else equally terrifying.

I had seven cavities diagnosed at lunch time on election day.
I had a hand surgeon stab me in the wrist with a needle the next day to extract a bible bump.
I learned that my friend had died 30 minutes later.  He was 45.
I learned that another friend died the same week, at age 85.
I learned yesterday that one of my best friends in the world attempted suicide, but he has the wherewithal to keep going,
but we started our conversation with me saying that I just don't have acceptance and he immediately retorted that he is sick of the rhetoric.  I can't argue with that.  I knew it and he told me, so I heard it.

He doesn't want to hear a slogan and I get it.  Slogans are sometimes too contrite.  And usually I feel that people who say slogans are too smug-- and yes, it's true, but the slogans are there for a reason, it's just that you can always use them on a genius.

Pretend you are dumb.  Pretend you are a peasant who is desperate for hope.  I didn't forget that there is hope, I am just weary of hoping when praying becomes like wishing.

This week the Zulu nation unseated their founder who wasn't much of a leader.  I have comments. Unseating him was the only option since he violated their trust and since they weren't going to throw away their advocacy for a liar and an old man who has no right to be guiding anyone anymore.  He did a couple good things, but now it's time for him to go.  This is what made me the least sad.  When I heard that one of his ( and I say ONE OF because there's gotta be more ) victims came forward as an adult ; I was slightly shocked, then not surprised, and then proud that the victim had the courage to write about the abuse in his book and talk about it in a magazine and talk about the statute of limitations being extended for things like this because it just takes longer for victims to actualize abuse for what it was instead of having it be some kind of shameful story where he felt like he did something wrong.  Because he did NOTHING wrong.  He trusted and loved someone and he was betrayed.

Relatively, my week was better than that.  Even though I was betrayed, it was a long time ago and this is just the aftermath.  I suffered some losses, but mostly I was glad I knew those people who were my friends who died.

I was glad I went to have my teeth checked and that I have health care.

I was glad that I have a job to do every day.  I was glad to sleep on my memory foam pillow and glad that I am anguishing over all of my choices because there were times when I felt I had no choices at all.  And if my complaint is that I have too many choices, then I am a lucky bird.