Thursday, November 10, 2016
Is This Real Life?
I had this dream that Tromp won. No, I really did, about a week ago, and I woke up in a knot of anxiety--for that single moment, it hit me how bad it would be if he won the election. The next time I felt that feeling was sitting in front of the TV at our friend Mitchell's house, after what started as a cheerful election viewing and burrito party. I don't know what time it was--9:30 or 10:00, I guess--when I found my hands pressed against my face, my body curled forward, a low moan coming out of my mouth. We all stared in disbelief. He hadn't won yet, but it was clear what was happening. Even after Mark and I came home and climbed in bed and managed to sleep a little bit, part of me thought
1. It was a dream, it was all a dream
2. Something miraculously happened at the very end to change the outcome
3. Or..? I don't know, I don't know
But there it was on my phone in the morning, sent by the New York Times to my email in-box. I can't type it, but you know what I mean.
[There's the dream where the bad guy wins and a chill settles: he's a bad, bad guy. He is surrounded by badness, he is supported by evil ugliness. And his HAIR. And...]
Then there's the dream Mark had the other night where he could text emoji to Zoë and Isaac that were edible--little pink cotton candy and stretchy salt water taffy emoji! Edible, so cute! I really, really wish that dream came true.
("David After Dentist" idea borrowed from Meg Rooks.)
("Tromp" borrowed from Elias, age three.)
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2 comments:
For a few days after Brexit I woke up every morning with the feeling that someone I knew had died but wasn't quite sure who. My heart really does go out to all of you. We are living in terrible times.
Yes, exactly. It's a heavy feeling, accompanied by the knowledge that I need to do whatever I can, but not quite sure what that is yet. And yes, I thought so much about Brexit as I was digesting T****'s win in the immediate days after the election.
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