90 miles an hour

I kind of checked out of life for a few days there, didn't I? Crap happens, and virtual life gets put on hold to deal with the real thing. In addition to my mother-in-law's illness, which keeps us pretty busy, my dog tore her ACL (I had no idea dogs could do that). While putting a dog on bedrest wouldn't seem like it would take much of one's time, when the dog whines because she can't be in the same room with you … well, it does. I find myself on bedrest right along with her. Hah!

Aaaaannnndddd … I'm still not over this election. I'm not moving forward. And I'm especially not accepting it. 

What am I doing? A short list:

• Ignoring the news, but …
• Following PEOTUS on Twitter, which …
• Makes me crazy.
• Avoiding walking (not election-related, more a function of time available. Or not.)
• Eating whatever I feel like (definitely election-related)

So. Basically being indulgent and lazy and worried and busy.

The past couple of days the lyrics to a Bob Dylan song have been running through my head.

The song is about a relationship, obviously. But here we are, America, going 90 miles an hour toward Inauguration Day when we will install a man who absolutely has to be the most unqualified person to be President in our history. And there's nothing we can do to prevent running into the brick wall at the end of the road.

I never go to church, except on Easter and Christmas Eve. But I'll be in church at noon on Friday, praying for the safety and future of my country. I know that sounds dramatic, but I could use a little comfort.

And the inauguration is one moment in history I'm more than happy to miss.

Going to try getting back on track this week. No promises …