With malice toward none, with charity for all.

When they go low, we go high.

If only it were that easy.

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.

Dear Speaker (Mr. Ryan, of course);

I’m glad to hear that you don’t think women should be objectified. Announcing publicly that you were “sickened” by Trump’s remarks was a good start. “Championed and revered” headed off in the wrong direction, however. How about equals? 

Yours in equal pay (not), Daisy

Dear Senator McCain;

Is “unendorse” really a word? I guess it is now. This could be even more powerful than “unfriend.”

An everyday middle school English Language Arts teacher

Dear Melania (Trump, of course);

Unacceptable and Offensive I can believe. Unfortunately, I don’t believe you when you say that this doesn’t represent the man you know. Denial may seem like a survival skill now, but you can’t deny his ugly and predatory personality forever. It’s time to step away from the Trump Troll, for your own sake.

A Quiet Observer

To whomever helps the candidate pack his suitcases;

This man needs a wake-up call. Cayenne pepper in the Tic Tacs might be appropriate.

Fresh Breath forever, Daisy

Dear voters;

You can tell a lot about a person by how he treats those he considers his inferiors. This guy doesn’t think of women as people. To him, a woman is an object, something to play with and someone to use. To paraphrase one of Donald’s own misstatements, Nineteenth Amendment people, you know what to do.

Respectfully (and you won’t get that from the Donald), a feminist voter

Dear President Obama (Eight years later, I still love hearing that title!);

Thank you for publicly stating that you want the same opportunities for your daughters as anyone would for their sons. You set a prime example by installing Hillary Clinton as your first Secretary of State. I would expect no less from the leader of the free world.

Daisy, a Dedicated Democrat