I can’t believe it. Tomorrow (or rather later today) I have my first Sunday in forever where I have – not one single obligation to anyone but me.
Having lectored at Church tonight, I have kept my Mass obligation for Sunday. With Flynn’s plea and his cooperation with Mueller, I feel the dam is about to burst on the Trump administration and I can breathe again. It doesn’t feel like the Constitution is quite on the endangered species list after all. And I have decided the GOP is going to do what the GOP is going to do because they are stubborn and tribalistic, as well as focused only on the wealthy. Hopefully the mid-terms will take care of them.
It no longer feels I must come up with a pithy tweet that encapsulates the fate of the world if Trump goes unimpeded in his Presidency – because even if he stays, that cannot happen now. He has been hampered by his own overestimation of himself. He has been found out to be the king with no clothes after all. Sadly, his courtiers have naked souls as well.
Maybe I am getting ahead of myself, feeling this way. But my relief feels immense. Perhaps I can enjoy my golden years after all.
Still, my most important quandary is what to do with my day. Finish the four piles of laundry sorted on my bedroom floor? Clean the fridge? Wrap presents? Lay about reading? Go and see “The Orient Express?” (My friends say it’s excellent.
I know what I won’t do for one day – pay a bit of attention to the news. I may be building myself a rose colored bubble that will burst come Monday.
Until then, frankly Scarlett, fiddle-dee-dee Tomorrow’s another day.