Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," melting down like ice cream on a sidewalk since November 2016! I'm your anxiety-plagued hostess, Anne Johnson, and are you as nuts as me?
First I thought that the office of the presidency would hold so much gravitas that even Donald Trump would assume a mantle of dignity. Nope! That hope was dashed in about 20 minutes.
Then I thought that members of his party would stand up to his outrageous behavior and school him on his adolescent tweets. Didn't happen.
Then I thought the Muller report would show that he cheated his way into the White House. It didn't.
Then I thought wiser heads would school and advise him on foreign policy. They did ... and got fired.
Finally I thought he would do some blatantly impeachable thing that would turn everyone against him. He did it. He got away with it. He'll keep doing it.
Oh my Gods I am melting down. Our country is falling off a cliff. A third of the citizens don't give a flying fuck, and another third are pushing it so it falls faster.
I read somewhere (don't have a link, this is a blog, don't need a link, why should I have one when the creepers don't bother) ... emmm ... I read somewhere that anxiety is actually a positive genetic trait. Anxious people are planners who assume the worst to try to keep it from happening. There's a need for people like this, because if the whole human race was blithe, everyone would be surprised when shit hits the fan.
At the same time, anxious people get criticized for "looking on the dark side." Okay, motherfucker, I look on the dark side! And guess what? It's dark! There's no "things will all work out" here! My anxiety about this loathsome beast in the White House was perfectly, completely, and utterly justified. He is worse than my nightmares predicted.
Now is when it pays to be anxious. At least I know shit-hitting-fan when it comes. I expected it all along.