Welcome to Serious Concern Week!

Published August 2, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

It’s Sunday evening. Some teachers are already back at work, some will go back on the 10th and still others on the 17th. Kids go back on the 24th.

I am still unemployed. I will be fully certified the end of August.  I know that hiring goes on up to and including the first day of school, so I still have several minutes before I have to panic.

I am such an overachiever,  I am going to start abject panic on the 10th.   This leaves this week open for serious concern.

And there are so many things to be concerned about:

First there’s that 1@#$$^ head , Walter Palmer, the American Dentist who wounded, tracked,killed and decaptiated a protected lion. The lion was then skinned as a trophy.  Now no one can find Walter. According to The Week, he has gone into hiding. (http://www.theweek.co.uk/64546/cecil-the-lion-now-find-me-an-elephant-said-dentist)

Anyone else hope there’s a few lions, tigers, bears and elephants out looking for pith helmets, shorts and guides to search the wilds of Minneapolis in search of a trophy of their own?

Donald Trump, who has clearly lost his mind,(but, apparently, has an unlimited source of Aqua Net.) is doing very well in the polls.  I don’t understand. I realize he is a gift to all commedians and political commentarians, but it’s a getting a little close.

And if we needed more proof that there is more money than sense available to many Americans, The Facebook Ad Team has denied a woman with scleroderma the right to show a picture of her face, scarred by the badges of her disease, coupled with a current picture of someone who has just begun her battle. They refused her ad because it would be disturbing in light of the unbelievable before and after nature of the ad.  Read the article: http://www.xojane.com/it-happened-to-me/facebook-doesnt-like-my-face

I do realize the irony of writing this blog of first world concerns on my new Macbook, but I am aware and you should know that I do penance daily by living in the monument of my own failure.  I am horrifyingly aware that my house looks like a crime scene.

It’s concerning.

 

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