Trying to Stay Sane During Insane Times

I’ve been working on a story for a while, and for a while I’ve been making some good progress. But lately I’ve been distracted, and the usual culprits of previous distractions–Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram–are innocent in this go-around.

My writing time has been severely hampered because I can’t turn off my television to the everyday breaking news drama of this chaotic and dysfunctional administration that is the Donald Trump presidency.  But what really traps my attention are the constant revelations of the Russian investigation, run by special prosecutor Robert Mueller, that leaves me hopeful that someday (hopefully very soon) justice will prevail.

But until that time, my days are spent stressing over what will come of the country I love because the people in charge are trying to pass policies that will hurt the most vulnerable, while benefiting the most privileged.

A few months ago, the Republicans in Congress made me sweat-out a healthcare vote that would have kicked 30 million people off insurance, according to the Congressional Budget Office. Three Republican senators were the difference between life and death for a lot of sick people because the Republicans had no viable replacement plan to ensure their care.

This is sick, but luckily, they didn’t get the vote.

But late last Friday night, the Senate Republicans had me geeking out and watching CSPAN 2 as they got the votes to pass their tax reform bill that according to independent reports, including the CBO, will knock 13 million people off insurance, and raise taxes for everyone making less than $75,000. The tax plan will also add 1.5 trillion dollars to the deficit, which will segue into rhetoric by the Right to attack Medicare, Social Security, and Medicaid (all programs they hate because non-rich people depend on them) to offset the deficit.

This is sick, too.

I’m not a perfect person. I’ve done things I regret, but I would never work to cripple programs that I know benefits children, the disabled, the elderly, veterans, and the working poor. This tax plan, designed to give relief to big corporations and wealthy individuals, at the expense of the middle and working-class, is devastating.

 

The Republicans are trying to play the ‘trickle-down’ theory game again. We saw this movie in 2000 under Bush. It ended badly. Seriously, only Rosemary’s Baby that ends with a woman finding out her newborn baby she thought was dead is actually the spawn of Satan, had a worse ending than the result of Bush economics.

I don’t want to hear Republicans lecture us about why the country’s most wealthy deserve tax breaks first, and why we, the peasants, deserve only what trickles down. Why not give the money to the middle and working-class people first, and then let whatever is left over trickle to the top 1%?

If you haven’t grabbed a poster and stood outside your representative’s office or made phone calls, then you are doing exactly what these incredulous politicians want – nothing.

This plan hasn’t passed yet, and it’s not too late to stop it. But action needs to be taken now. Grab a sign. Make a phone call or two…or fifteen…if that’s what it takes.

But note to self, turn off the TV for a little while and get back to writing. Your sanity and writing career depend on it.

 

insanity

 

Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just Don’t Get Us Nuked

I recently got into a tiny argument with my mother about her Xanax prescription. I don’t have my own script. I used to have one and could easily get a new order from my doctor, but I stopped needing the medication daily a few years ago, so I let the prescription expire and never asked for a new one.

My mother used to get 90 pills a month, but now her refills are at 30 and she won’t call her doctor to ask for more. She thinks he will be upset if she tells him she needs more for the month. She also doesn’t want the pharmacist to think she’s taking all of these drugs (as if they care, and I’m sure they’ve seen harder drugs prescribed than .25 mg pills of Xanax).

Surely, if the doctor should ask her why she is feeling so anxious that she needs more pills and she simply responds, “Trump”, the doctor would understand, right? Even if he voted for Trump, the doctor would understand a person’s high anxiety during these fuckingly crazy and terrifying moments when a reckless wacko president taunts another reckless wacko leader of  a country with nuclear weapons.

Yesterday, North Korea shot another missile that is said to be capable of reaching the US. Wonderful. Yes, please, Mr. Trump, keep up your taunts of “Little Rocket Man” and all the other adolescent bullshit you tweet about. I’m sure it makes every American proud knowing that your Twitter feed, filled with calling people losers and American journalists liars, will be archived for all the world to see for many, many years.

The stress is nonstop with this guy. If he’s not making us sweat-out three horrible Republican healthcare bills that would have knocked 30 million people off insurance, he’s starting a nuclear war over Twitter or trying to pass a tax reform bill that the Congressional Budget Office reported would hurt poor Americans the most. Awesome. Let’s take from the poor and give to the rich. Nothing can possibly go wrong with that. (Big f*cking sigh.)

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.  I know. The stock market is up at record levels. Trump ran on deregulation and tax cuts for the rich and big corporations. Wall Street is responding with a lot of love, but how does it help the middle class — the true testament of a strong economy?

In my basement, there is a room we used to call “Jewel”, named after a local grocery store near my house, because it was the place we stored extra supplies of whatever wouldn’t fit in our pantry and cupboards. Recently, I’ve been buying canned foods and cases of water specifically for that room, and I’ve changed the name from “Jewel” to “Trump’s Gonna F*ck Us Room.” Because be prepared. Always be prepared.

I have yelled so many harsh words as Trump’s orange face glistened across my TV screen and have had many imaginary conversations with him that would get me arrested, but at this point I’m tired and if I were standing in front of him all I’d be able to muster would be, “Please don’t get us nuked.”

Wow. What a presidency, and it’s only been eleven months.

 

Nukes

 

Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net