gratitude-a-thon day 2013: panic at the disco

I, um, am starting to panic. In the pit of my stomach, I have a ball of fear. I’m pretty sure it’s screaming, “HE CANT WIN.”

But of course, if you were part of the 2016 election, your PTSD has kicked in by now, and you know that he can win. He can cheat, and he can win. He’s good at it. Talented. And let me just say right here, I don’t know what I’ll do if he wins. I. DO. NOT. KNOW. WHAT. I’LL. DO.

This election season has been four years long. So many of us have struggled with the kind of president and person Trump is. I’m telling you the truth when I say this is not Republican vs. Democrat. Trump is a third party candidate. He does not resemble the principled Republicans of yore. In the least. This is a man (and it really is hard to call him that, but for lack of a better choice) who does not care about our country. People are dying of Covid left and right, that red monster is spiking again, tearing across the U.S. like the two candidates themselves. And Trump has declared that he’s actually ended the pandemic in his brag sheet of accomplishments. THIS IS JUST NOT TRUE. I mean, gaslight, much? People are dying. It could happen in your family. It could happen in mine. Hell, it has already happened in mine.

But back to my butterflies, my waking up in the middle of the night wondering how we’ll all survive if the worst thing of all happens and Trump, the non-science believing, women-hating, xenophobic, hater of the LGBQT community, lover of white supremacists and those good folks from QAnon, non-believer in the Black Lives Matter movement, ripper of immigrant children from their parents (more than 500 of who, criminally, cannot be found), gets four more years. If that happens, I will be hard pressed to stay in this country and watch it burn to the ground.

There is a nice town in Italy, near Sicily that’s selling houses in need of love for $1. Who’s with me?

Gratitude for those of you who’ve voted, worked the phones, written postcards and letters and texted til your fingers were numb. I love you. You, you are the people who give me hope. You are my people.

Sweet baby Jesus, let’s go, Joe!

3 thoughts on “gratitude-a-thon day 2013: panic at the disco

  1. Toni, thank you for all your extra (but appropriate) worrying on behalf of all of us. When the results are in, come over and scream in front of my house, regardless of which way it goes.

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