Are the people who delight in seeing people deported and families torn apart happier than me?
Are the people excited about the demise of public education happier than me?
Are the people merrily erasing women and black Americans from history museums and exhibits and online archives happier than me?
Are the people that think it’s awesome that the USA invaded another country and kidnapped its leader and his wife, supposedly for doing the same thing that another country’s leader got a Presidential pardon for, happier than me?
Are people who cheer the monster in the White House happier than me?
Are the people that believe I’m going to go to Hell on Judgment Day happier than me?
Are the people who say “Ugh, I hate reading” and who brag that they haven’t read a book since high school happier than me?
Are people who can’t find Afghanistan on a map and think Africa is a country and think “Mexican” is a language and see no reason to learn a second language happier than me?
Are the people that feel like their jobs aren’t worthwhile unless they are working to bring down a coworker who is excelling at their work happier than me?
Are trad wives happier than me? Are their husbands happier than my husband?
All these people seem so much happier than me. They derive so much joy in winning, and in seeing those they don’t like losing. They act so triumphant. They seem so confident. They smile more than me. They have more money than me. Their swagger is undeniable.
Maybe I’ve been on the wrong side all this time. Maybe I’d be happier if I switched sides.
I miss being happy. I think I’d be okay if I had some sort of incredible life-defining accomplishment, like an Academy Award. Or choreographing Oklahoma. Or a Pulitzer Prize. I’ve had some incredible times, no question – but it’s amazing, not in a good way, to have seen my name and work all over the Interwebs once upon a time, and now, watching it slowly being deleted…
I think this blog is just part two of this blog.
And have I mentioned how much I do not want to turn 60?
Leave a Reply