Off To Protest

Thirty years ago, I worried over getting head lice and missing the latest episode of Clarissa Explains It All.

Twenty years ago, I worried over Finals, which college to go to, and missing the latest episode of Buffy.

Ten years ago, I worried over doing well at my first massage job (that I would eventually quit) and missing the latest episode of Drag Race (dat season 4 brought the drama).

Never during these times did I worry over my reproductive rights being threatened to where a rotted corpse gets better government treatment than I do.

You think that in the year 2022, I should be worrying about flying cars being safe to use and which chrome-plated dress I should wear to the club where I’d get to dance with robots. Instead, I’m worrying over losing my right to an abortion if I needed one because some ass-backwards, out-of-touch, Bible-thumping cuntbeasts in the Supreme Court want to take us back to 1822. Since wishes don’t really come true (including mines of, among my many other wishes, getting rid of all the conservative scabs some people call justices), I’ll be doing the next best thing later today: attending my local Women’s March to support the fight in keeping Roe v. Wade the law of the land!

Why didn’t I think of that for my protest sign?!