how's everybody doin'?
let's chat shall we.
Twenty-four hours before the 2024 hell-ection and I, a lifelong pothead, am officially gummied out. I tried dissociative drinking and bang-bang Door Dash overeating but my menopausal organs, finicky and fickle as a teen heiress, rejected both. I can’t buy anymore stupid shit. It is now time to simply ride this one out.
How’s everyone else?
P.S. If you, like me, still have an overwhelming sense of dread about the 78-year-old Oompa Lumpa garbageman becoming the next president/king (despite that one lady and her poll in Iowa!) and you don’t know where to place these feeling/ wish to do more than lie horizontal, there’s still time to phone bank in PA, help voters “cure” their rejected ballots in Georgia and even canvass in states coast to coast.
I'm in Philadelphia and can see the stage for the last Harris Walz rally from my office on the 20th floor. I'm hoping that Kamala and Tim and Lady Gaga and Ricky Martin will gently carry us over the finish line.
Did my first phone bank thing Friday. It helps, people! Vote cure banking for PA and Georgia today and tomorrow. Much easier for introverts like me — you’re calling people who are glad you called. God — or whatever one believes in — help us all.