Turn down day

During the week working I’m wishing i had time to do things. All I have is time and I look forward to the weekend with the thought of freedom.  I like work. It’s not the work. It’s not like I’m wanting to escape from work. It’s just that I sometimes fantasize about all the things I ‘could’ be doing.  This happens when I’m waiting for a call or at noon or in the evening.  

I’m stressed by work more as I seem to pick up the anxiety and despair in a way I didn’t younger, 

Now I’m at the cusp.  People ask ‘are you still working?’  “Are you going to retire?”  More and more I hear of friends dying too.  So I ask is this what I want to be doing? Is this what is the best use of my limited time? There is a sense now that time is limited. An illusion but a product of age.   Is this giving me joy and satisfaction?.  Am I doing what God wants for me?  

My problems are ‘Cadillac’ problems.  I’m alive, healthy, roof over my head, food in the fridge, work to go to, no significant debts.I’ve a mortgage but part of my having this home is to serve my work. If I stopped working I could sell this home, downsize and live off government pension and maybe do odd jobs.  I’m so weary of the government and beurocracy and their evil corruption. Nuremberg.  The banality of evil.

There’s an election coming. There’s a new wave of the Covid.  There’s taxation and inflation and never before have we have such a criminal traitor in power in Ottawa.  There’s a futility of dealing with clowns.  There’s a fear of growing old and becoming more dependent on the likes of our PM who let so many seniors die by incompetence and negligence. I would save more money for old age but there’s never enough to deal with government rapaciousness. They’re the mob.  Death tax. Tax on everything and skyrocketing inflation. The criminals and black marketeers are doing better than ever before like in all third world corrupt countries. I wasn’t prepared for the depth of evil that Trudeau would go to , punishing working Canadians and seniors as he has.  Then I think it’s just ‘fear’.  

The sun didn’t come out today. It was raining yesterday and today.  The fall and winter rain seasons are coming. I hate the doom and gloom of darkness and yet I so enjoyed and was blessed by the summer sun.  I don’t know if I’m prepared for the winter.  Sickness stalks the land in winter.  All the taxes on fuel mean costs of living continue to skyrocket.  It’s okay. I’m fine. There’s always the urge to catastrophize.

I actually imagined this weekend, getting into a dress and packing a travel bag and driving with my dog down to a dog friendly 4 star hotel in Seattle. Years ago I had a Kimpton Hotel weekend like that.  Skirts and blouses and manicures and shopping. Eating out in luxury restaurants. I could leave the dog for an hour or so and he was fine.  The Kimpton Hotels are LGBT and dog friendly.  I doubt my present puppy is ready for that. It was a frivolous weekend. I have had many such alone times over the years. Feeling safe in anonymity. 

In my conservative Christian circles I’m frowned on for cross dressing, sacrilege of sacrilege while all the church ladies have been doing this for decades,  But in my cross dressing LGBT circles I’m frowned on for being a conservative Christian.  Meanwhile people around me vote for Communists and ignore the millions they kill and enslave. Meanwhile the Taliban are raping and killing and 50 shades of Grey is okay because the man is a billionaire.  Political correctness is everything.  I don’t fit in I fit in. I’m in and out, I can play the game but the game is not real. I’m more interested in the Glass Bead Game. I’m playing hide and seek with God. 

In my life I’ve had the experience of a planet with an odd wobble. I’ve been celebrated in the path moving along with others only to continue my eccentric path and move out of the mainstream.  I spend decades mainstream and it’s called a ‘phase’. I’m constantly criticized for hunting and as a sailor it was okay to sail and party in the bay but becoming an off shore blue water salesman really meant I was crazed.  I like the groups I’m in but don’t like the critics.  I was a ‘poet’ when it was belittled and now my poet friends are mainstream.  

My latest craze is cross dressing. I’ve worn women’s clothes on stage. I’ve danced the female roles as a dancer. I’ve been in innumerable gender neutral roles and undertaken countless ‘pink’ tasks. I’m androgynous in that regard. I cook and sew and performed cunninlingus like a pro. I’ve given fellatio.   But I challenge the ‘social norm’.  In high school I was that guy who was a jock, an arts guy, and an intellectual and student council and I moved in all the circles. Today the same.  But I feel the contempt and hear the words of the administrators who want everyone to be as cowardly and afraid as them. The control freaks and the psychopaths in suits seem within me judging myself.  I’m enjoying this book I’m reading. Are you trans enough?” 

I’ve never been ‘enough”. I wasn’t good enough as a kid. Loud enough, tough enough, quiet enough. Man enough, gay enough, smart enough, Christian enough. And if I’ve been ‘enough’ one way I’m too much or too little some other way. I was never drunk enough and then I was never sober enough. There are always people comparing and criticing and I’ve taken in the loudness of it all. I’m critical of the government. They are bullies and liars and right now we are paying them and they are extortionists and theives, 

I tried to have the wife and kids. I did the right things. I bought the houses and devoted inordinate time to making money and repeatedly the courts or the government stole it from me and gave it to psychopaths.  I told the truth and the judge listened to the liars. I worked hard and my pay went to the support the corrupt.  I gave a life time of service and saw that caring for people in the front lines, clinical work, was mostly frowned upon. Those who spent their times in office , the bottom of the class, the politicers and smoozers got most rewarded.

It’s the poor me Trojan worm in my brain computer that’s a ‘go to ‘ refrain. The disgruntled poor me song played on the tiniest violin. I do gratitude daily to refrain from living in that bitter envious poor me place. 

 When I put on a dress it’s like I don’t have to ‘fight’ anymore. Dozens of times there have been major emergencies, crisis, fights, people being beat up, girls being raped, car crashes, gangs….and I’ve stepped out of the crowd, alone and confronted the situations, leading for the good.  It was like the first life saving situation on that beach in Toronto where 1housands watched and only a half dozen of us assisted in saving the drowning woman’s life.  Age 16 and now a half century more later it doesn’t change.

 I’ve been first out of  the trench.  I look back now and see the fat cat leaders with guns and their guns are to shoot us.  We’re sent in against the enemy without pay and without guns and told to get the guns of the fallen.  Only occasionally have there been women in those situations and I’ve loved those women.  There rarer among the women than I am among the men.  The last time I was first to an emergency the ‘masses’ were filming it with their phones and thank god for the woman who joined me in saving the life and told the others to stand back.  

I’ve lived among idiots and only realized it when so many voted Trudeau. I felt like I was in the 30’s in Germany watching my friends back the stupid little corporal who was an idiot.  Idiots love power and go on to abuse it.  I’ve fought idiots all my life.

Wearing panties and a bra and a dress and high heels I simply don’t think it’s my place to fight. I’m an old lady when I’m out cross dressed and I just want to have fun.  I love going to the spa and paying for people to serve me, to have my hair done, my nails done. As a man I suppose I could have gone for massage but men mostly are served by surgeons and doctors.  We injure our backs carrying the luggage of women and children and the elite. We get cut and shot defending the home.  I sing the song ‘I’d rather be a hammer than a nail.” 

I learned that the US Canada border was still closed and the idea of a lazy weekend , road trip and nice hotel was off. It wasn’t really a plan.  

I like the sense of being ‘bait’ too. Being a girl is ‘fishing’. I’m a pretty lure, a worm, trolling through the market.  I like to hunt as a man. I pick out the game I want and shoot it because it stops and looks back. I’m the one who decides what to shoot though the deer might want to be found. I sometimes say I provide euthanasia to the suicidal deer.  As a man I’m a sniper.  When I was young, walking around was a risk because there were all these guys looking to prove themselves not a few guys who were really mean.  I’d get the girls and they’d want to beat me up and I won a whole lot of fights. It was okay until the Marxists feminists usurped women’s liberation and egalitarians and began to celebrate the lying sociopaths like the Trudeau ‘s who claimed they were feminists when they were beating women up and paying off little girls they abused.  The whole Marxist Communist gig,the left wing shickt is to say one thing and do the next. It’s second nature for the godless to lie.  

Then the same sorts were in the money games.  I had to deal with administrators who ‘lied’ and stole documents and threatened me in person and in committee.  I survived them. I did my time and just tried to do my job. I was a clinician. Like a welder I was just going my trade. I was aconstantly paying huge amounts of money to the authorities for protection so I could do my job and collect my pay and the authorities increasingly sided with the criminals and psychopaths. Today I pay these extortionists so they don’t burn down my home. They’ve got guns.  They deserve no respect.  They are unethical and evil.  

So I pray.  

I like walking downtown and feeling the wind under my skirt  that the most I have to fear is a purse thief. I’m camouflaged. I’m unarmed thanks to the criminal leader. I don’t have a purse gun. If I defend myself I’ll go to jail I’ll lose my time playing lawyer games.  My blind dog and I were threatened, I will kill you and I will kill your dog. He said over and over.  I’ve been told this a dozen times venomously by young men who I simply stared down and faced and prepared to kill.  I am too old for a second round. I’ve paid millions in taxes to the public purse to have ‘safe’ streets to be able to go to work ‘unmolested’.  I’m scared still.  One young man sophisticated in the system went to the administration and complained that I woulfn’t help him even though there were witnesses and he was threatening to kill everyone .  The administration, cowards and con artists, low life worse than him,  beat me up to protect themselves.  The police did nothing.  

If I’m wearing a dress i imagine that I could have a man find me attractive, strange as that may seem, and at worst I’d have anal sex. It’s not that bad. I was raped and no one cared and indeed like most things it was my fault and I shoulfn’t have been there and I shouldn’t have smoked dope and I shouldn’t have trusted the powerful.

The Bible teaches us the government killed God’s son.  

God doesn’t care if I have Sex with consenting adults male or female. God doesn’t care if I masturbate.  It’s really clear what Jesus talks about. Ideally you marry and have children. But in the great kahunna, the great line is ‘God had nothing to say about women in business suits.”

Half the children of divorce their fathers are not the fathers. The courts refuse to do DNA testing on children of divorce.  The church ladies looking down on the lustful are the overweight gluttons.  Sloth is the go to Netflix sin of the day.

I ‘ve walked the dog a couple of times. I’ve got this day off. There are all kinds of things I should do:

1. Clean the house.

2 Wash the vehicles

3.  Write a novel

4. Complete the applications I began last year for various titles I’ve earned but bureaucrats have put up extortion rackets around so I have to do all these wasteful paper hoops 

5. Volunteer at the local political party again. 

6.  I prayed and meditated but both Gandhi and Martin Luther King said if it’s tough day spend more time on your knees. I pretty much pray unceasingly as it is. I’m always talking to God in my head, in my journals.  Guide, me Thy will be done.

7.  I was looking at electric folding bikes and got side tracked by an electric skateboard . I’m ambivalent and don’t need to spend the money. I love my Vespa in town.  But next week I’ll have the thought I should have looked at electric bikes on the weekend when I had the time. I won’t dwell on it.

8 I should get out. Go for a ride . Take madigan on the bike down to Commercial and have cofee. But it’s raining , spitting. Sitting out side writing nonsense is not that attractive in the rain.  People watching isn’t so good. With the dog along I need to sit outside.  

I could just read for a bit.  Soon it will be noon.  .  I feel like I’m wasting my day, Yet it’s no big deal. Cadillac problems.  I”m procrastinating doing a lot of things I think that I could be doing. I got my bow from the storage locker and I could be testing it before the actual hunting days but I usually use the first day of the hunt to site in and all that. 

Next step is to have a shower. Maybe that will inspire.