A sign of hope for America.
Things are beginning to return to the way they were. At least for me. I found Lysol® at the store last week! It’s a small – yet strangely ridiculous – sign of hope. Maybe not so much strange as pathetic. I mean, are things really so out of whack that we get excited about Lysol and toilet paper?
Last year started off rough for me, when my mother suffered a debilitating stroke. I reluctantly had to place her in a rehabilitation facility to help her heal. Her dementia only intensified matters. Then the pandemic hit. And then the facility practically evicted her in May of 2020 because her Medicare benefits expired. She finally passed at the end of June.
The stress of caring for both of my elderly parents for so long seemed to hit afterwards as my body and mind almost completely collapsed. In the midst of a global plague, I naturally thought I had “The Virus”. But it was just that relentless stress. I already knew its effects from life in the working world. Yet I’d never felt it so personally.
Alas, the U.S. economy is regaining strength, for which conservatives are crediting Donald Trump. But those of us with more than a few brain cells know Trump’s actions and behavior throughout his thankfully single term in office traumatized the American psyche and steered our financial situation into greater distress.
We finally have a president, though, who know how to act…well, presidential! Joe Biden may be an old codger, but as someone rapidly headed towards 60, I’d rather have an old man who knows how to govern than a failed businessman / tax cheat / cretin of a human being who brags about fondling women and holds up a bible like it’s a copy of Mein Kompf for a cheap photo op.
Earlier this week I started working on a temporary job – one that requires me to actually get into my truck and drive to an office building in a neighboring suburb. Aside from having to wear a face mask whenever I leave my desk, it’s a rather normal and ordinary corporate environment. Oddly, it feels good to go somewhere other than a store or a restaurant during the week.
Some other things, however, remain troublesome. Like its owner, my 15-year-old vehicle is showing its age. I really think it just wants to lead a life of its own – much like my body. Unfortunately, I’ve gained too much weight over the past several months. I believe that’s a recurring problem. But rotund physiques have become a common sight here in the U.S. If I’d known better, I would have invested in sweat pants years ago!
Regardless, I still see hope on the horizon of mediocre. Now, I must do some sit-ups and enjoy spraying that Lysol.
Chief Writing Wolf 