Those of you who’ve followed me for at least the last four years know that I’m going to celebrate today as Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are sworn into office.
This country has a long road to recovery. The chaos Trump promoted, and the damage he has wrought will not be easily undone, but at least now we have a fighting chance to bring the U.S. back from the brink of destruction.
There’s a small bottle of champagne chilling in my fridge, and an American flag waiting to be waved. It’s time to make America a good place to live—for all Americans.
On a regular day I’m not a terribly organized person. My thoughts don’t coalesce; they flit and flutter like a pair of courting butterflies. Since election eve, though, I’ve been even more scatter-brained. My phone’s gone missing a record number of times. I’ve carried my shoes to the car thinking they were my purse, only noticing I was barefoot when I placed a foot on the brake pedal in order to start the car. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to get behind the wheel.
When Joe Biden was predicted to have won the election I thought maybe I could get my head back to it’s normal irregular operational status. I even managed to sleep seven undisturbed hours on Saturday night, Unfortunately Trump isn’t willing to concede, so I’m still frazzled.
My brain won’t settle down enough to allow me to write. I’m worried that Trump will somehow pull off the ultimate scam. He is, after all, a master scammer. Look how he’s conned millions of people into believing his lies. I don’t trust the process anymore after four years of gaslighting and projection and the undermining of our democratic process. So if tomorrow I accidentally put my phone in the oven and back my car into a wall you’ll know why.
The sign I planted in support of Joe Biden lasted two whole nights at the entrance to our neighborhood before being removed by some angry old white man. Studly Doright and I actually drove into our housing development yesterday afternoon just in time to witness the old codger pluck the sign from the ground.
I was hopping mad and would have confronted him, but Studly reminded me that the guy was likely armed. He also had a rather large dog with him. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take his picture, but he looked vaguely like an amalgamation of these four angry white dudes. The GOP seems to have more than its share.
Still, I’m celebrating that the sign lasted two full days. I’m surprised it made it through Halloween, but it did. And, I have a backup sign in the trunk of my car. I believe I’ll wait for Election Day to plant it.
Last night was the first of the 2020 presidential debates between Joe Biden and the current occupant of the White House. Studly Doright asked if I wanted to watch the event and I thought about it for all of two seconds before saying, “No!”
This will be the first time in many years that I refuse to watch a presidential debate. In 2016 I watched Trump boorishly looming over Hillary Clinton while he lied through his teeth. While she handled the whole intimidation attempt beautifully, I did not. It made me sick to my stomach, and I didn’t sleep at all afterwards.
Trump represents the worst mankind has to offer. He is without honor, solely interested in enriching himself, and maybe his family if their interests happen to align with his own. And he will say anything, do anything, to screw over the little guy in his quest for the almighty dollar.
What did we do instead of watching the debate? We watched Dexter on Netflix. Yes, I’d rather watch a serial killer killing other serial killers than watch Trump bloviate ad nauseam.