I pull into our polling location and get Sabine out of the car as she protests and squirms. She wants to go to the museum instead. I explain that today is a historic day when we get to cast our vote for the first woman president. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up to a bright future, Sabine. Tomorrow the glass ceiling that has hung over our heads will be no more,” I said.
My eyes fill with tears as I mark the ballot.
That night the Professor, a friend and I settle into our sofa with beers and snacks. To celebrate I select craft beers that have labels featuring foxy women. Television on, laptops out and mobile devices connected to WiFi. Let the games begin.
Around 12 a.m. we switch to bourbon and stare slack-jawed at our screens. How was this happening?
The weeks between the election and inauguration I read the news daily waiting for something, anything really, to change the outcome.
But it did not happen.
The last two weeks have been a complete nightmare as one shocking thing after another hits the news. I grew up in tornado alley, and the feelings I am experiencing are a lot like the feelings when you’re huddled in a bathtub listening to the radio coverage of an approaching wall cloud. You don’t know what is within that cloud but you know it’s not good and if you happen to get a direct hit, well, things are going to get fucking ugly.
A bad storm line is over in a matter of hours. This Trump presidency and his cabinet of clowns, however, are going to be here for a long time and the effects will be felt for decades to come. So hunker down, y’all. This storm is likely one for the books.
Please note that we are all entitled to our opinions in this election. Hateful, deconstructive comments will be deleted.