If Wishes Were Horses

I was tired last night. Tired enough to turn on Monday Night Football, but not know the score. Tired enough to feed the rabbit and make my lunch, but forget to finish the refreshing beverage and bowl of pretzels beside my reclined end of the couch. Tired enough to avoid the debate between candidates for my congressional district.

And that, my friends, is tired. I’m tired of the election commercials. I’m tired of worrying about what-ifs. What if this garbage and BS of a rigged election cause craziness in the people who are gullible enough to believe it and aggressive enough to cause trouble?

And then, the wishes. I wish Election Day were over and the results clear. I wish the likelihood of a Clinton victory weren’t tainted with the nastiness of her horrible opponent. I wish I thought the glass ceiling would shatter dramatically, yet peacefully. I wish I had a Reese’s peanut butter cup. Hey, don’t judge. There’s Halloween candy in the back hallway, and chocolate makes me feel better. 

I wish I didn’t feel this ominous cloud hanging over my shoulders, the fear that we haven’t seen the worst of it yet. I wish that feeling were gone, and most of all, I wish I thought that feeling was wrong.

The best action I can take will be to vote early. Amigo and Chuck voted yesterday. My first opportunity, after meetings and conferences and more meetings, will be Thursday, between picking up the Chicago style pizza and serving it up for Eating the Opponent, Chicago on Thursday Night Football. Thursday night, I’ll know the score.

I wish I knew that the scores on November 8 will have the best results for our country.

And if wishes were horses, then beggars might ride.

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