Hello! Is anyone on here? My follower feed is ‘openly gay animals’ and the odd trump doomsday article. And like, it’s not bad exactly, but it is also not good.

Being a femme of a certain age means I now virtue signal by describing myself as an aging party girl/nurse in PowerPoint presentations.

Just some harm reduction nails since I’m at the harm reduction conference this week. Also, valentines.

You guys, is my Bluesky gonna turn into a full on social media confessional account? Possibly. But don’t get excited cause shit is heckin’ boring over here.

8pm on Saturday. Just made dinner for myself. Now I’m waiting till I can go pick up my kid from her evening out so I can go to bed. I’m not sad to be home in this way, but I def miss when going out felt like a fun option. And it makes me wonder who I am and how I will stay connected as I get older.

It’s the middle of the night and I’m nauseous from my meds and the state of the world. I’m just here. In the cold. In the dark. And still, stubbornly, hopeful for the future. It feels both delusional and sustaining, which, tbh, is kinda my brand.

If you aren’t currently being topped by a trash hound are you even apocalypsing, bro?

Fun fact about me: when I feel out of control my bedtime skincare regimen gets EXTENSIVE. Which is, upon further reflection, less fun, more fact. #apocalypsefemme