I watched Paul Hollywood from The Great British Bake Off make bread last night and I decided to use a few of his tips to make some loaves of my own today and I think my biggest mistake was that the knife I used to make the cuts in the dough before it went into the oven was not sharp enough even though I sharpened it and now all of my work is going to be for naught and goddammit, isn't that life? Don't ignore that part about having a special little tool for that particular thing because you'll just fuck up having done everything else right.
I don't know what I'm talking about right now. I'm in a weird mood and feeling yes, anxious, of course, and feeling worthless because I didn't do anything today but take a walk and do a little bit of regular housework, not even much, and the toilets need cleaning and I just don't feel like it.
I am also thinking that I have at least five kinds of cancer and that my husband may be contemplating leaving me but I keep reminding myself that depression and anxiety lie and I'm hoping with all of my heart that this is the truth of the matter.
This is how my mind is working tonight. Or not working, as the case may truly be.
I swear to you- this whole Donald Trump thing has got me in a mess of fucked-upedness and as I've said, I know I'm not the only woman to be affected by the things which have come out about him lately. Every damn day there's something new to add horror gas to the fire of the evil which is going on. That interview with Melania? Where in defending her husband she only made it worse by insisting that he's just like a little boy?
Well, duh, darlin'.
And you might have to put up with that shit but we, The People, certainly don't.
Unless his basket of deplorables which is now the size of a Great Lake somehow manage to vote the fucker in.
Bruce Springsteen, in a video I saw today, said that no, Donald is definitely not going to win but that he'll be trying to take the entire democratic process with him when he goes down. Somehow, I think we can come back from that but the very air of our country has been tainted by him and by the acceptance of him by so many people. So many of us, especially women, feel betrayed and dirtied and assaulted over and over and over again as the days go by.
And I can't help but think about the women who do support him. Of course many of them have been victims of sexual assault and what have they done with their pain and their anger and their shame and their fear? Have they simply buried it so deeply inside of themselves that they can't recognize what Trump represents to women? Have they internalized and accepted the abuser's assertions that it wasn't the fault of the abuser but of the woman for simply being there, that men are men and that's what they do, how they talk, and that girls just need to shrug it off?
I think about the woman who wore that T-shirt with the hand painted message on it- Trump can grab my... with an arrow pointing to her nether regions and I wonder if she knows that in a million years the man who shits on a gold toilet would not get within ten feet of her if he had anything to say about it.
I think about the fact that you can now buy T-shirts printed with that message.
I want to puke.
Well. Here we are. 2016 and this is where the political discourse has taken us and it's no wonder that we're all feeling sickened and sick. Or at least those of us who have some small ability to recognize and realize the horror.
Fuck it. I don't know.
I don't know shit.
Well, I do know that my knife wasn't sharp enough and I know that my left knee is bringing me grief and that I am starting to walk like a drunk on the rolling deck of a ship at sea due to my hips and that aging is taking far more from me than it is giving back.
Lord, God, I would pray if I were a pray-er. Please let us survive the next few weeks and please don't let Donald Trump become the president of the United States of America.
On Thursday I think I will go to Monticello to the old jail where the early voting is held and cast my vote. Get it done and over with so that if I break my leg on election day I'll have already voted. That old jail is my lucky voting place. I voted for Barack Obama there twice and I'd vote for him again if I could but I will be very, very proud to vote for Hillary Clinton and that is the truth and the fact of the matter.
I'm hanging in there. How about you?