I got minimal sleep last night. This morning I woke up internally shaking. I knew at 6:30 that I would not be able to go in without at least some sleep, so I attempted to call in.

Welp. Everyone in charge is teleworking, and it took me almost 30 min of calling and emailing. By that time my anxiety was still worse, and I knew sleep would be impossible. Add to that the anxiety of remembering that whatever time I take will come out of my minimal reserves, ie, vacation because my sick time was depleted when I was sick for 4 months, and my anxiety reached level 20.

I finally reached a bigwig and told them I was coming in; that I would be at my desk at 10. I wasn’t planning on saying anything more, but my mouth had other ideas. I asked her why I was the one chosen to be sacrificed, and how discouraged, expendable and disposable I felt. Silence.

So I will leave my house in 30 minutes and ‘be productive’ out in a world from which others can sequester and stay safe, but not me. I am fighting back angry, helpless tears.

Usually, my tears and my anger are for others; they galvanize and propel my work. Not today. Today my tears are for me.

Still, I cannot ignore the implications for others, not just myself. Those of us forced to ‘do’ while others have the luxury of safety are taking a real emotional and psychological hit. I feel, and I imagine others do as well, the depth of contempt for me as a person.

I will never, ever, forget this. The larger implications, yes, but I cannot always live in the macro; in systems and institutions.

Right now I live in the very personal micro. And I am crushed, defeated, and alone. I understand others feel the same way in this crisis, that I am not alone. But I will not pivot. Not today. I feel this insult to my marrow.

At Lace on Race, I am a woman who feels respected and seen; a woman with a small amount of influence.

Out there, though, I am an insignificant cog in a wheel that cares not one whit.

The dissonance is staggering.

But I need to be at my desk, producing, in 45 minutes. So off I will go.

Meanwhile, read the below from Laurie Bertram Roberts and let the truth hit you like a bullet.

“Pay attention corporations don’t give a fuck about small businesses and neither does Trump.
It’s clear in the way they crafted the bill.

Their whole “let meemaw die for the economy” pitch has less to do with them panicking over money in this moment and more about them worrying that if we “little people” get “too much” help and get “too comfortable” we won’t want to work at their shitty companies anymore under ridiculous schedules, in unsafe conditions, without healthcare, while being sexually harassed and without a living wage in the future.

That’s their real fear. I mean yes the economy but more that they will lose their workforce to exploit.
It’s why they want to give the people with the least the least help. So we are still starving. To “force” us to work.

It’s a very old racist trope dating back to sharecropping (and earlier) when landowners would withhold federal aid during harvest time, even from the elderly and disabled, to make sure “every ni**er got in the fields to work” It’s been perpetrated against migrant workers as well. This is what they think of us. Low income = black/brown and black/brown = lazy. Not just lazy but irresponsible hence all this handwringing by GOP lawmakers about “how will it be spent” and no oversight for trillions to corporations.

As I said PAY ATTENTION.

Also

Wash ya hands.”