It’s Not Jet Lag

Maybe it’s jet lag.

My sleeping is off and my appetite is haywire, but I don’t know…

I only spent ten days in Europe, but it seems this is not the same place I left.

Don’t get me wrong, I fled (vacationed) because of the election of Donald Trump. I bought the tickets the very next day because I needed to escape the reality for a spell. So shocked by my fellow American’s vote that I needed to step outside the environment to remind myself that another world exists. What I found was they are as equally obsessed and perplexed by this election as I was. What I’m saying is, I’m fully aware of the state we were in at the end of November.

But the reveal of Russia’s chicanery and Trump’s cabinet picks is shocking and potentially treasonous, it’s no wonder the discontent on our shores is now super-sized. The vitriol on both sides and desperation on the left who see their beloved country under siege creates a storm of negative energy that you feel on your skin. There’s little particles of every angry online comment board floating through the air, producing a blurry fog of outrage and derision.

I’ve never seen America act so strange and angry at itself.

So while I do implore both sides to behave more civilly, this is the situation. It is now not only confirmed that Trump intends to destroy the very institutions that make America what it is, but that he is able to do it with the help of Putin. This is a serious threat to our democracy.

It is hard not to be consumed with fight. With the desire to yell and scream that we’re not going to take it!

I can understand the anger. I feel it, no matter how far the Norwegian Airlines’  Dreamliner took me, I couldn’t get away from the slow horror of our detonating political system.

The idea that Putin took revenge on Clinton for calling him out for shady elections when she was Secretary of State directly leading to the appointment of an oil tycoon friendly with Putin to be Secretary of State is unquestionably a wearisome turn of events.

Whether you believe Putin had a hand in the election or not, Trump and Tillerson’s coziness with the Russian oligarch should cause concern for anybody not caught up in the Reality Star’s ego-driven political peep-show.

Think about it. Trump found the time to meet with Kanye West. A rapper currently on year 12 of a narcissistic mental breakdown of his own, who married a Reality Show Royal/Porn Star, who recently tweeted about being broke and begged to bailed out, who less then a month ago quit his tour mid-rant and was institutionalized for his own safety, and who, to my knowledge, has never done a damn thing to help anybody but himself. And I’m a fan. Trump, in some crazy universe only he wants to live in, penciled in tea time with his fellow megalomaniac at Trump Tower instead of focusing on preparing to run this country. It’s Donald’s world now, all about him, 240 years of American history be damned.

Swell.

This is it, folks, this is what we get.

This great country is in the hands of a conman putting on a show while he systematically disassembles the departments of governments that have gotten in his and his cronies’ way. He’s setting up his American Oligarch to mirror that of his buddy’s over in Moscow. So he waves to the camera next to an inexplicably and disturbingly blond-haired Kanye while his buddies are lighting matches to the Department of Education, Department of Labor, Department of Small Businesses, Department of Urban Housing, Department of Energy, and last but not least, the EPA…

And that last one really makes my head spin. Trump appointed a climate change skeptic to run the Environmental Protection Agency.

Holy shit.

It’s five in the morning and I’m awake now. I can’t stop reading about what is happening. Each article is one more midnight burglar rummaging through my diminishing store of hope.

I feel doomed, if not by Trump, then by the feeling of doom itself. The only thing we have to fear, right?

I don’t want it to get to me but nothing Trump has done as president-elect is giving me hope. It looks like we’re going to be in a fight to save our country as we know it.

I flew in yesterday to Oakland from Barcelona, with a long delay in London. Then today I drove down from the Bay, pass all those MAGA signs with the newly-glued ‘thank you’s’ smugly added to the corners on the 5. It was a reminder that this nightmare was really happening, and I couldn’t stay in Europe forever (and it’s not like they’re in great shape either).

It was also a reminder that we live in two different countries. The cities and the country. And somehow the billionaire Manhattan developer convinced the folks living in ‘flyover land’ that he cared about their jobs; even while he nominates a man who lustily dreams of robot workers replacing them to head the Department of Labor, they cheer this swindler on.

I lay down and doze for an hour and wake up. I feel wobbly, exhausted, but too nervous to sleep. Even though I’m no longer on a plane, I feel like we’re all going to crash. My eyelids are heavy but my mind won’t quit. It needs to feed on page views and shared outrage. I feel out of it on a profound level. Like the entire world has slipped into an another dimension where Truth and Logic and Decency have been forgotten. There’s a nihilistic impulse to give up gaining strength with each new deplorable development.

I don’t like what is happening to me either.

I don’t know, maybe it’s jet lag.

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