older, wiser, but what does it matter when the world is imploding around me?

Seattle had a mass shooting downtown last night a half an hour after I left 3rd & pine. Literally exactly where I was. Luckily, my compulsive desire to get home to my dog saved me from potential bullet holes. whee. The tide has not just turned but has washed a ton of shells away too. President is still not removed. Impeached means nothing. Who cares if you have an asterisk next to your name. The bastard and his thugs are still continually tearing apart what little democracy exists, so who cares what history will say? Small comfort for those of us who are living through this fucking class war. Not sure if I'm gonna make rent this month, again. At work was my first full day of being a union shop steward and it was ok. By turns entertaining and irritating, but I definitely can cultivate some of the hellos I've been delivering since day one. Maybe. The new pastry exec, Sara, appears to be like me without the narcissist tendencies, so that's awesome. She's also maybe 45? So that's also helpful. My entire physical being is a mess of pain though, and sleep has become problematic. Except for when I take a Benedryl, which allows me to double my sleep state to a whopping 4 hours, and only wake up with a mild headache. I suspect that my sleep apnea is slowly killing me every night. With any luck instead of Dad-style heart attack, I will just suffocate in bed one night. However - I had a rare dream last night that wrapped up (don't ever remember how these things start) with KC and I having a super long walk along a fremont/ballard -ish canal needing to meet up with Karen and some other people. We were running late and saw a boat with a woman who was showing kids along the canal via the boat and when I walked by and just jumped in, they were so stoked with the dog (so typical) that we were allowed to stay in the boat. When the boatride ended we jumped out and met up with Karen and some other peeps, and began to walk in a Frelard sort of quasi-light industrial area (shades of doorknocking, to be honest) and then KC became a goat (and not by magic, she was just suddenly a goat, but still somehow KC? Too much Milk Barn Farm Insta ((and cbd)) before bed) who had eaten something bad from the side of the road (which I am constantly telling her not to do IRL) and she started puking and swelling up, so I looked around to find her water, and there was a porch of a hippy house that had pots and a faucet, so I jumped up on the porch grabbing a pot to get KC the goat water, while the others stood by and watched. A dude came from out of the house (hot, but not specifically - just a hirsute manly Jason Mamoa sort of guy; and there was a woman still in the house too, maybe? He said it was ok, put his hands on my shoulders and told me to relax and then got behind me so my head was cradled in his crouching lap and he gave me this bong (oh shit, a chillum?) to smoke - saying I needed to come in and relax after we get the goat out of trouble(I kept telling him she was my goat). He put some sort of scarf over my head, but I could hear Karen & the others getting worried, and one of the guys with her leaned in my ear and said "You don't have to do this" and then I realized (decided?) I didn't want to get that high, and told the guy no thanks. I hugged my goat, started to stand up from the guy's lap (which was warm, and supporting) and then I woke up. My subconscious is NOT SUBTLE. Momma needs to get fucking laid. But momma has no desire to get involved with anyone. Ah well. Also, Karen and Ken are going to Cracked Pepper's debut brunch and I am very jealous.