It’s probably bad form to post under this theme twice within a week. Please, don’t pack me off to the cotton-walled Hilton.
Early last summer, I began musing that I’d died in late February or early March. Really, it was just boredom and mentally passing the time in lockdown.
It was certainly a way to explain the hell we were all living through.
Then, as the campaign season wore on and Election Day approached, I started to wonder if maybe I hadn’t died late in 2016…and this was how I’d be spending my eternity in hell.
It certainly seemed feasible enough. Plus, the hangover I had on 11/9/2016 was the worst I’d ever had – no joke. Maybe I had died of alcohol poisoning back then.
But then…something awesome happened.
Biden and Harris pulled out a win. Things were looking up. Well, up despite the efforts of 74 million idiots.
So this morning, not too long after Trump snuck out of the White House for the last time
I was finally able to put that simmering concern to rest as I watched Biden address the nation as our 46th president. And, while I’m sure he will be the first Democratic one-term president in about a half century, all felt right knowing that our 47th president was very likely sitting there watching.
Congratulations to is all – Americans, stupid or non-Trunts alike.
We made it.
We will heal.