Premonitions

I kinda sorta knew which way the wind would blow when I woke up crying yesterday.

Having been trained through the years to remain stoic, accept the pain of whatever slings and arrows come my way, keep it all inside, maintain my spiritual integrity, I never ever cry, but I woke up crying yesterday morning and burst into tears ─ for no reason, off/on all day.

I assumed it was a portent to four more years of having to see you know who’s ugly mug, and his band of home-grown terrorists, flashing across the television screen, popping up in my news feeds.

Then later this song began to play in my head.

Still later in the day, the route to picking up a package took me through the area the Archeologist had posted to avoid last week, due to an active protest over a shooting death.

Once I passed through that intersection, a chill came over my whole body and my hands began to shake so bad after that, after picking up the package, I was afraid to do any further driving.

I drove straight back home, did not pass go, did not collect $200 dollars, and stayed there.

THEN, I dreamt last night that a friend’s husband was shot and killed in a hunting accident.

The friend being the one of 40+ years I’ve blogged about as constantly inviting me to events, even though I continually decline, and being “a nice enough woman, but I outgrew her 20 years ago and she won’t let go — always keeps up with where I am, what I’m doing, calls and bends my ears for hours, all the while saying nothing — talking about people, places, I don't remember, things I’ve no interest in.”

At any rate, I dreamt last night that her husband died in that accident and he doesn’t hunt .... that is unless you count his hunting for liaisons outside his marriage.

I never cared for him because of that proclivity of his, but that was between him and her and if she’s chosen to turn a blind eye ─ which she did, even when some of the women he was fooling around with told her what was going on, and stay with him for 51 years, that’s her choice.

So there’s that. And waking up this morning, with no clear resolution as to whether we're saddled with four more years of hate and home-grown terrorists, and with you know who finagling to make certain no further votes are counted, I’m all out of tears, hope, sympathy, prepared and ready for which of the two ─ death of America or death of friend's husband, or both, come to fruition.