I'm the problem!

 

Dear you,

Deforestation, compliments of unchecked development in the Panhandle beach area, is bloodier by the day.  Road kill everywhere.  And the creatures who do manage to dodge death by car are forced into residential zones seeking food, water, anything to survive.  Hence the appearance of racoons here at Beachwood Villas.  According to the nosey old farts snow-birding with us, this is my fault. Because for the past year I've been feeding two feral kitties who have been here longer than me. So what's the big deal?  Racoon poop, that's the deal.

Night before last, a really revved up racoon gang hit the Villas and pooped all over the landings of my building and the one next to me.  The old farts were outraged!  Poop on the landing!  "They are here because of that cat food put out by that snotty fast-walking lady who ignores us."  (Yes, this is my survival strategy.  I walk fast with earbuds in so I don't have to engage.)  When I saw the poop near my front door, I thought it was hilarious.  And really, cleaning up after a furry friend is so much easier than cleaning up after barbaric "guests".  Believe me, I have found much worse that coon poop on my landing.  

Anyway, the farts ratted me out to our condo management dude, who I actually like.  He forbid future feedings; his minions tossed out the cat dishes and spread cat repellant (or worse) around the green spaces. I don't want to know their plans for the racoons.  This won't end because with or without Joyce treats, racoon habitats are vanishing and they will continue to show up, searching for anything, especially in our dumpsters. But don't blame the developers or greedy investors, of course.  Blame me! Yep.  It's me.  I'm the problem. Cue Taylor Swift, "Anti-Hero": 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)/ At tea time, everybody agrees/ I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror/ It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.

I love that song!  More relevant lyrics from the same:  Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism/Like some kind of congressman?

I guess the farts saw my cat care as a self-indulgent show. Fuck them.  But speaking of congress and poop (bullshit to be precise), how about this dude?

This guy is unbelievable, literally. Doesn't he look like the love-child of Marco Rubio and Gov. Ron Desantis? Startling resemblance. My favorite Santos lie is how he claims to have been a volleyball star at Baruch college, a school he never attended. Why volleball?  Why Baruch? Such an eccentric little falsehood. But apparently HE is NOT a problem.  And neither is the Missouri state legislature that has created a new rule for their female representatives. They can no longer show their bare arms. So very Taliban, these legislative versions of my old fart snowbirds.  And apparently THEY are NOT a problem either.

It's me. Hi.  I'm the problem.

Racoon poop, Santos, and a bare arm ban in Missouri.  The year is already deeply absurd.  And it's only January.

End.

Joyce, your ever-evolving condo criminal