Election Day 2016

Gramma,

November 8, 2016,  Election Day.  I wake up with a complete lack of enthusiasm that dogs me all day.  It is beautiful out, sunshine and relative warmth.  I do not want to get dressed and go to the polls.  My blood pressure rises just thinking about it.  I feel foggy.  The dog and I get in the car for the four mile drive to the town hall. 

I am not smiling.  Neither is anyone else.  I am in the booth with my cheat sheet, so I know who to vote for and who not to vote for.  I am pissy because all those relentless political ads I was forced to endure for months are not the assholes that are on my ballot.  My cheat sheet does include those who are, but that does not make it better. 

The presidential choices disgust me.  Neither speaks my language.  I feel paralyzed.  But, it doesn't matter, because I have sold my vote to my husband for six cases of beer.  I do not like his candidate.  He is a ruptured pig gut.  I do not think he is the lesser of two evils, but it doesn't matter.  I am good for my word. 

It's a rarity that I climb back in bed.  I pick up a book and read a few pages.  The cat is curled up nearby.  Her fur is soft and comforting.  My duress does not matter.  Regardless, her tomorrow will be the same as today.  The tuna will be forthcoming.  The bathroom will be cleaned.  The evening news does not predict a clear winner.  I am stone faced, resigned to whatever.  I share a bag of popcorn with the dogs.  The cat welcomes me back. 

Dave comes to bed late.  There is no word.   Later, I wake up screaming, "help, help, help."  Dave wakes me up at the same time I wake myself up.  I dreamed the bottoms of my daughter's and my feet were impaled with many needles of fine crystal glass.  Please don't let the dream ensue when I close my eyes. 

Before five a.m. I check my phone to see who won.  I nudge Dave, "Your guy won."  He says, "I know."  He has been checking his phone all night.  I am resigned.  I feel nothing.  I get up and let the dogs out, put some coffee on and start the fire.  There are states not yet called.  We are one of them.  We don't matter, because it is over.  The country has raised a middle finger to the status quo. 

I am struck by how the morning show hosts are able to deliver the news without betraying any personal feelings.  I am rarely at a loss,   don't know how I feel.  Life will go on.  I will pop more popcorn.  Meanwhile, Facebook is not funny today.  There are vitriolic rants, stunned disbelief, hate, and fear.  I can't absorb it all.  I have friends on both sides of The Wall.  I try to look for the positives. 

I think Obama Care is a failure.  For me, this is the fault of the senate and legislature.  They created a monster with their ugly little personal interests, pushing and shoving until the original intent became an unholy stepchild,  Dave and I wanted everyone to have affordable health care.  For many people, it is not affordable. In theory, it was a good idea. 

When Jesse Ventura became the governor of Minnesota, I was optimistic.  He was pretty brash and rough around the edges, but I thought he had potential.  Hopefully, he would be open-minded, willing to become enlightened in the face of facts and figures.  I was wrong.  I am not holding my breath on The Donald being any different.  Global warming is just the tip of the iceberg.  I am thinking now the same thing I thought then, how much damage can he do in four years.