Buh bye January and oh yeah none of this is normal

Goodbye January 2025, the longest month in recent memory. I awoke January 1st to the news of the Bourbon Street attacks, and ended the evening of the 31st puzzling over a friend's (?) hostile texts, lamenting the passing of Dr. Lawrence Ketchens and watching video of an air ambulance plummeting to earth.
What the ever living fuck of a time.
A barrage of executive orders directing the persecution of immigrants and trans folks.
Snow. In the Gulf South.
Uncertainty at work.
As a side note: ELECTED OFFICIALS now is the time to grow a vagina and STAND UP!!
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On a personal note, a dear loved one's health is holding steady, mine is better-to-TBD (knee much improved, other stuff meh) and I have two short pieces imminently to be published.
What's important for me now is connecting with those I love and finding ways to support them.

hard to know

It's hard to know how much to worry at the moment.
When I say everything is shit, I don't think it's hyperbole.
Sleep is a rare commodity. I spend hours awake each night with the 3 a.m. worries, wondering what will get us first? The climate? The pandemic? The evil-mongering baddies?

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(I'm guessing the insomnia hits at 3 a.m. because I made a pact with myself never to look at the clock in the middle of the night).
But you know what I mean.
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Trying to take proper precautions and do more yoga and make more positive changes and spread a little humanity where I can. I thanked a guy out picking up litter today. Made conversation with the super talkative co-op clerk (he compared corgi butts to wool pants). Didn't rage at the guy bringing an obviously neurodivergent and yelling kid into the workspace.
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The small things may be all we have right now, but they are something.