Today, I awoke, walked over to our office, sat at my desk, looked at my computer, SIGHED, and said to my little honey dog, Chance, I can’t! He looked at me, and I swear, wagged his tail, he provided a high-pitched bark, the kind that usually means NOW, can I have a treat; so I stood up, following his wishes, meandered to the special kitchen cabinet where dog magic seems to appear like manna from heaven, got him a treat and SIGHED one more time! Chance was happy, but I felt like I was living in a half-way house trying to get clean, from my obsession with making America greater, as it was before Trump!
Almost slithering out of sight of Chance, while he was munching on his treats, I snuck into our bedroom where my phone had been tucked on its cute little battery stand, still in sleep mode. With a shaky hand, a gut that both cheered me on and struck my stomach or maybe my esophagus with a new kind of burning acid seemingly filled with melancholy, angst, fear, but a whole lot of adrenaline, I reached for the phone, knowing once I picked it up, a litany of notifications would be listed, each recounting more horror story regarding the end of our nation’s democracy, the reluctance of elected officials to work for the people instead of worrying about their own careers, and how the Constitution was now the official toilet paper for White House staff. Oh yeah, of course, the really important stories regarding on Kardashian, some D Grade actor who had an affair, another GOP male politician beating up his wife or having an adulterous affair, or how much more money was charged to the taxpayers because Trump was playing golf again!
I grabbed my phone and did see a long list of words and sentences, was glad I chose NOT to wear m reading glasses, placed the phone back on its battery charged stand, and of course SIGHED once more. This time Chance was on to me, slithering into the bedroom in his stealth mode, but as I turned to exit the room, where he was, no tail wagging, but a look like he heard the bathwater running and was about to meet his doom by having to get a bath! Chance doesn’t growl, but this scenario was the closest to Chance EVER growling, I do believe he did SIGH, however!
I apologized to Chance, and pretended I was going back into the kitchen, but instead, hearing it calls to me, almost begging me as the fictitious but dangerous Sirens of the Seas, was my computer, reminding me, that even if the rant was a continuation of the past, I must go on record as to NEVER EVER permitting me to remain silent, regarding the destruction of MY country! Thus my non-blog, BLOG!
