What Should Be State of the Union Part 2

2/27/2026

Since, I said I was going to give you parts 2 and 3 Thursday and Friday and I hadn't delivered yesterday, I knew I needed to give you something today. I'm so very sorry, lovely readers, but I have not been able to bring myself to watch more of the State of the Union (SOTU). I am going to tell you explain to you how I managed to procrastinate for the last two days, but I will take full responsibility in saying that I haven't watched it because I can't bring myself to do it.

I DON'T WANT TO.

There I said it. I don't want to. The man is so gross to watch. His bulbous jowls, the way his lips smack when he talks, his prominent lower teeth, the jesters in the back, Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber, his absolute clusterfuck of a cabinet that shows us what happens when we repeal DEI and hire based on color of skin instead of qualifications. Sitting there, high as fuck, smiling at dear leader, like a twisted Manson Family.

So, what have I done instead of subjecting myself to that trauma? I actually "worked" yesterday. My dad and stepmom were unable to be at their house yesterday while they had major plumbing work done. I hung out at the house all day as a point of contact in case of any issues. My nephew was with me for most of the time and I didn't want to subject him to the SOTU. Then Willy was already home by the time I got home. I was so exhausted I couldn't even cook last night.

Then today came. That's when the real procrastination began.

I grocery shopped at seven thirty in the morning………..at Walmart…………in person. It took me an hour. I barely made it through. I was starting to struggle at the end. Then, I saw a bench by the pharmacy. I was so tempted to sit, but I was afraid if I did, I wouldn't be able to get back up. The cart was the only thing holding me up. Loading my bags, I felt a nerve in my hand move and my hand exploded in pins and needles. By the time I got into my car, my arms were buzzing from the inside out from my shoulders to my finger tips. I had to sit in my car for a few minutes before I could leave.

I collapsed on the couch for about a half an our after I put the groceries away. I was pretty sure I had shot my load for the day. My arms and legs weighed at ten pounds more each than they had before I had collapsed on the couch.

I didn't let that stop me.

I cleaned the fish tank glass. Vacuumed. Scooped the litter boxes. Vacuumed the living room and dining room. Took some pictures of Delilah. Cleaned the kitchen. Did one small load of laundry (actually, it's still in progress. I just the clothes in the dryer). And took a fucking shower! I am all out of spoons. Seriously, I should have stopped after I finished up at Walmart.

Tomorrow will be rough and I have plans with Willy that include a bit of walking. I have to do my best to push through the pain tomorrow to walk through the convention center. We will get to see one of my brothers so that is always a plus. I know that the combination of yesterday, today, and tomorrow will leave me in a painful pile of hyperactive nerves on Sunday. I will feel sound and light. I will feel allergic to 99% of my clothes. Most of those will need to be worn inside out so I can't feel the seams. Migraine doesn't begin to explain the pain my head will feel. Honestly, I don't know how it will feel. Sunday is going to be a surprise for me. Based on how I feel now, it's not going to be pretty. If I'm able to write at all this weekend it will be a Fibrovid blog about how I feel.

That is how badly I didn't want to watch our criminal-in-chief blather on with false statements and hate fueled vitriol. I will take the physical pain over the visceral feeling of disgust I get when I watch an idolized sexual predator talk from a podium as the leader of what was once the free world.

I promise, radical readers. Yeah, radical readers. That sounds better. That sounds right. Monday I will get back to it. I will start watching the SOTU and writing as I watch again. We'll see how it goes.

Keep coming back my beautiful Radical Readers.