AKA Kate, Existential Editor extraordinaire.
Quick fun facts: I’m 45, have been married since I was 18, and have two boys over the age of 21. I’ve got a Bachelor’s in Business Administration, and I owned my own company for five years.
I’ve taught myself sewing, jewelry, bottle beading, cross-stitch, embroidery, making headdresses, and costumes. I designed my tiny house, learned landscaping, carpentry, painting, patio building, driveway repair, and building code. I navigated dealing with contractors, worked as a home stager, organizer, and decluttered a ton of junk. …
I’m going to take a big step away from you now.
Some people are like magic around machines — no matter how much their electronics are abused, they always work. I stand in awe of people’s ability to get the most from a bad situation. I am not one of those people.
I grew up in an era where personal computers were few and far between. When my tiny little school got two Apple IIe’s, I found myself ecstatically excited about the prospect of playing on them. Back in the day when floppy five-inch disks were actually floppy and disks, playing was a privilege. …
A tale of fire and ice.
The Polar Vortex is feeling its Wheaties lately. Mother Nature’s extreme negativity resulted in temperatures that barely reached -5F and winter weather warnings declaring a -45F windchill. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that it was too cold to breathe outside. If you’ve never experienced negative temperatures, you can expect that your nose hairs will instantly freeze when you inhale. It will also feel like you’ve breathed in glass shards. It’s not fun.
My dogs are no longer excited to pee outside, and I can’t say that I blame them. S.S. informed me…
Because Brown let me down.
The Polar Vortex hit with all the subtlety of a toddler screaming for milk. If it were not for dogs, I would avoid the outside world like I avoid everyone on the planet due to pandemic. However, my canine lovies desperately need to use the outdoors often enough that it is a problem.
My chihuahua mix has to be coaxed down the stairs because he expects to encounter weather too cold to poop in. Once we arrive at the dog park, my dog becomes The Flash. …
RE: Exciting upcoming changes to our buildings’ property management!
Dear Valued Employees, Current Management, and Customers accidentally BCC’d in this memo:
Hello, everyone!
As you all know, the past year has involved many changes and updates to our business practices and email guidelines.
First, we’d like to address the elephant in the room before moving onto our more exciting news. Everyone, and we do mean everyone on the planet, knows all about Daphne’s birthday. You can stop wishing them well. You may stop “replying all” to let their manager know that the email is going out to everyone. No, seriously…
This is not Grand Theft Auto.
City living is interesting and not just in the Minnesota sense of the word. Every view contains people to watch, fun things to do, and random occurrences that you just cannot make up.
The city is my oyster, and there are too many stories to tell.
No offense to small towns, but cities elevate curiosities far beyond who someone is dating or the car they bought. Small towns are quiet and sleepy by design. They do have one distinct advantage over the city. Your neighbor is more likely to borrow sugar or yard tools than make unfair trades.
The first…
When they tell you to ignore the little things, life is made entirely up of small moments.
This year has exacerbated all the tiny details in people’s lives. We’re surrounded by our problems, foibles, and personal issues with very little in the way of distractions. It’s no wonder that the more we stay locked up in our own dungeons, the more depression and anxiety increase. It also shouldn’t surprise us that addictions, divorce, and abuse rates are higher, too.
The United States thrives on distractions. We overwork ourselves to satiate our need to be busy. We self-help ourselves until it doesn’t make any sense. We focus on social media as if it benefits society.
We do all…
Everywhere I go.
It never fails. The beginning of the year seems so fresh and new. Then the end of January reminds us that our finances are in a choke-hold, inextricably intertwined with federal, state, and local government interests. You know, like the military, the military, and the military in that order.
I’m good with the fact that my tax money goes to keep the cogs of our country running. I’m okay that I’m not technically involved with deciding where the money should go, despite voting for people who are supposed to care marginally about where I’d like my tax money spent. …
But they did tell me that I’d have days like this.
Levity, a much-needed respite, comes entirely at my expense this week. The whack-a-mole game of house design within the confines of 152 square feet of space is both epic and repetitive.
My builder in Oregon, ever patient, is designing my steel frame with a Texas company. I sit in Minnesota with bated breath, hoping that today is the day I get notice of production. Interstate lines are repeatedly crossed as we continue to play a game with Google Drive.
“I uploaded the information.”
“I can’t see it.”
“It should…
These are not my United States.
In my teens, I became disillusioned about politics, fairness, and government. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Arizona, where people always seemed to suffer and toil. Possibly it’s because my family always side-eyed government like it was a dirty necessity. I really don’t know.
In the last thirty years, I’ve watched this country bloom and blossom. We came together more and more. It felt like things were improving. I began to hope against hope that maybe my America was finally maturing, finally out-growing its terrible beginnings.
I was wrong. We were all so very wrong.
In the 80s, I…
Sunshine Zombiegirl
Existential editor. Mostly alive sort of undead, jack of all trades, master of none, but better than a master of one. AKA Kate sunshinezombiegirl@protonmail.com
