Throw it out!

Dear you,

It is the day after the day after the last voting day in America. We wait for results. Patience is required. In my case, I am impatiently waiting to accomplish something, the firing of a man who should not be president for another term.  

He has been (and still is) the equivalent of the behemoth couch that came with my condo.  That couch, a big grey Pottery Barn monster, never suited my taste.  I dismantled it slowly by first removing the grey covering, then moving one section into my cat’s room for her napping pleasure, and finally disposing of the remaining chunk on Election Day Eve.  (Thank you, Tanner, member of the Impeccable Roofing Crew, for making that thing go away.)

Now, my living area is wide open.  I can dance around the space or just sprawl on the floor, playing catch-the-yarn-ball with the feline.  The zone is clear and airy, free of a piece of furniture most people don’t want anyway.  Why “couch it” when you can roll around on a soft beige throw rug?  Why “sit” when you can luxuriate, all stretchy and unrestrained?

I tossed the purposeless couch.

It was the perfect time to throw the thing away.

Just like @realDonaldTrump.

I know getting rid of Mr. Trump will be much harder than getting rid of a couch.  Couches typically don’t have lawyers.  But since POTUS’s most notable legal advice comes from the sadly fading Rudy G., I think it is safe to anticipate Don's exit.

When he is gone, we can live in a head-space and real-space that is clear and airy.  We can luxuriate, all stretchy and unrestrained.  And then . . .

We can get back to work and learn from what we have experienced.  No more careless presidents.  No more pointless couches.

Happy day after the day after the day . . .

Love,

Joyce