Maybe you are, too.
Or maybe not.
Truly, I am no longer obsessed with news of the creature occupying the White House. I will snigger and shake my head over the daft and appalling things that emerge from his mouth and wee fingers — but only for my bittersweet entertainment.
The “sweet” part being: I’m fairly sure this will be over soon. I don’t know how, or who will do it. Whether it will be Michael Cohen’s cell phone ping from Prague (ringing out loudly on Twitter today), the city he claimed he wasn’t in (colluding with Russians, et al) during the campaign. Or whether the fake Trump empire will be burned to the ground like a shabby gilt Valhalla that ignored the rigorous NYC building codes, and then the Hudson River will rise — although not flooding the rest of us as it did with Sandy — and wash only through Trump Tower, cleansing the place.
Don’t know. Still waiting for indictments. And for Nancy Pelosi, whose last bon mot concerned The Wall. She pointed out that Trump is now calling for not a wall, exactly, but maybe steel slats, or a fence or “a beaded curtain or something.”
We don’t have a president and we don’t have a government. Some of the worst and dimmest (i.e., Trump appointees) are trying to stir up disasters in our agencies but they’re so incompetent, so flagrantly corrupt, I doubt any of their wickedness will last very long.
Meanwhile, I’m actually getting a bit bored with Twitter — although my fingers don’t seem to be entirely connected with my brain, since they do want to click on the Twitter logo every once in a while.
And my devotion to funny animal videos has expanded. In re: I wish someone could tell me how to get videos off Twitter and onto Facebook, because today I saw an adorable one of a baby elephant rolling around in a mud pool with a young woman wearing a useless plastic jacket.
My brain has now returned to really significant questions of life, such as: why did I pull out my rag bag because I needed a rag, when I am sure I dumped my enormous ragbag a couple of moves ago?
So why do I find myself now with a ragbag? Do rags proliferate? Is it all about dead t-shirts?
Profound questions.