I don’t think of a regional earthquake as “doomsday.” I think of doomsday as nuclear holocaust or such.

No food, no gasoline, no electricity, no running water, no plumbing or really infrastructure of any kind. Most of your loved ones probably dead. If your glasses break, you’re just fucking blind. Constant threat of what’s killed everyone else killing you, too. Etc. and so forth. Call me crazy (as someone already did)…

No, I’m good. Do you think everyone who jumped from the Twin Towers during the attack needed a shrink?

My coffee hasn’t kicked in yet and I confused Liza Minelli and Liz Taylor. I had completely finished the thought “why am I supposed to care about a dead woman’s roommate?’ before I realized my mistake.

I’m an ally but was initially resistant to going to the training that would award me my employer’s “Safe Zone Ally” placard for my office. I wasn’t sure how relevant it was in the workplace until mentioned “so they know they can ask for an extension on an assignment because their husband/wife is ill and not have to…

There have been times when someone should have told me this but didn’t.

I was very anxious about this when I lived in NYC. I just felt so vulnerable. I think it was the lack of car and easy escape in an emergency situation. Also knowing how nuts the city would go in an actual doomsday situation.

My doomsday prep involves hoping I’m taken out in the first wave. I’m not an unhappy person, but there’s nothing about my life that would make me desperate to cling to it in an actual apocalypse. The chick in the first season of The Walking Dead who let herself be blown up? That would so be me.

Someone reported having a job offer revoked after attempting to negotiate terms that would have allowed more time with her new baby. And I have to admit I wasn’t surprised because as someone who has sat on academic hiring committees, even I would side eye someone trying to spend less time on campus than we expect.…

Apropos of nothing other than typing to read my own brilliant words:

I’ve encountered anecdotal evidence that attempting to “lean in” harmed women in academia.

I wonder how the REAL Joe Walsh feels about this dumbass running around with his name.

The good news is that for me, “dark side” is crying, then passing out.

You all do you all, but I won’t lie. I’m a little judgey about grown-ass people who are into unicorns.

The only time I came remotely close to being thrown off for drunkenness, I promptly shut up and went to sleep. You stay out of a lot of trouble being a happy drunk. (I was not being combative, just really loud.)

I benefit from neither. Long walks outdoors kick meditation and journaling’s asses.

But isn’t there also something in there about marrying before being fruitful?

Three illegitimate kids and apparently not a one has a solvent father. I probably would have been more sympathetic were her mother not a bible thumping pro-lifer. I remember thinking “why is it the biggest bible thumpers who have the biggest number of illegitimate kids/grandkids?”

Then there was the old school friend who needed $150 to get her kid’s dog out of the pound. That left me terribly depressed that someone I once cared about a lot and has two kids to take care of doesn’t have $150 available for an emergency.

I received a request from a family friend raising emergency funds for her daughter. I thought “that’s a shame but why am I expected to help rectify your daughter’s bad choices?” Then I sat there and let it sink in that I just thought exactly what anti-public assistance people say.