the only way out is through #4

January 20, 2017… Day One

On the bus on the way to work, I feel fine — completely fine! I think, election night was the really bad night. We’re ok now. We’re emotionally stable.

At work, I’m ok. A woman I don’t really work with passes by my cubicle and says “OH HAPPY DAY.” Very flat, very sardonic. We make eye contact and nod at each other a little.

The men–the ones around me, anyway, are barely tolerable with their unconcerned bantering about the possibilities of a Trump presidency–like this is all such a lark!

I’m not even trying to do a media blackout. I’m on Facebook.

an exchange between two people that used to be married.

There’s a TV near my desk, and I can’t avoid hearing snippets of the ceremony. I hear snatches of Sousa and it’s like someone twisted the knife.

I go in and watch, because half-hearing it is worse. I feel like throwing up. This feeling continues throughout the rest of the workday, along with agitation.

We leave work early. I meant for the day to somehow be defiantly joyful but I feel like garbage and I go down a terrible Twitter rabbit hole. Michelle Obama gives us life. But as word trickles in of Trump signing orders and the new White House website scrubbing things, it starts to feel too weird and scary. I have sensations like my face is caked in dirt and my stomach hurts.

I feel you, Karen Rose

I turn off all news coverage and commentary. I put on reruns of an old TV show for background noise and company. I make dinner. I start work on a sign. I start to feel a lot better. I go back online and have a rambling discourse with my sister about which political podcasts we like. She’s going to the march in her city tomorrow too. Our mom is going to the liberal coffee klatch in our tiny, mostly-conservative home town.

not TOO scrunched over there on the right

News coming in now of a shooting at the UW campus protest against Milo Yiannopoulis. The news is just breaking and it’s unclear what happened. It is clear that King 5 is giving lots of air time to Milo Y. fanboys about their views and how the left is misguided because Milo is GAY and he’s attracted to BLACK men, so obviously he’s not a Nazi. The crowd is still there, milling around. It’s a mile away from me. I hear helicopters as I’m typing this.

It’s getting late now. This was Day One.


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