I’m so obsessed by the election and children running away in my house and my newfound interest in feminism that I have no time to write about anything that won’t get me shot.
I could write about the large rock thrown at my windshield in the Walmart parking lot because of my Obama bumper sticker, but I don’t want to get shot or firebombed today, as Abrah shared I might.
I could write about not reporting the incident to the police because there has been way too much police involvement in my life the past week and a half and I would like a day or two without having them at my house. I also know that they’ll never catch the plaid wearing scruffy redneck who most likely did this and so all I see coming out of it is a couple of hours and another tree’s worth of paperwork.
I could write about stupid Wyoming Runaway Laws, where it is illegal for a minor to run away, but nothing is done to her. And it is apparently not illegal for a 20 something year old criminal to help her.
I could also write about teen suicide and bullying in my little backwards town and how anyone different is not tolerated here, how I know that I’m needed here, but how much it wears me down sometimes.
I might even write about the atmosphere of male privilege these days at work, but I don’t really want to start anything there.
Or I could even write about how one child should be spending time in jail by now and the other gets a court date for getting caught 3 blocks from home at 2:30 in the mornings and how much I hate having my bedroom in the basement because I can’t catch them.
Sigh, but I guess I just really miss Abrah and so I’m going to imagine taking the day off and grabbing some wine and heading to her house to watch this whole thing go down and swearing that after today I’ll stop biting my nails off.