Taking a Chill Pill

My husband, for fear that I’m going to blow a gasket over some political issue, has suggested a way to both shut me up about it and make me happy at the same time. He really is a genius. He suggested that – although he has never voted before in his life – he will register and vote for whomever I want if I will just stop ranting about politics.

He has got himself a deal. The only things I love more than challenges are, well, easy things that don’t involve any thought or effort. Anyway, there’s no need to for me to “bring it” in this particular case, ’cause “it’s already beroughten”.

You could not possibly grasp how difficult this is going to be for both me and him. Although I can be shy, I certainly express myself to family and friends freely enough. I’m sure acute laryngitis has been wished upon me more than once. Silence can be a form of apathy, and I care deeply.

If I should succeed in my part of the bargain – by nothing short of a miracle – Michael, who is a very private person, would have to give out some information regarding himself to the government. This will probably make him convulse or break out in big red hives.

I will try my damnedest to put him in that uncomfortable position.

But, it won’t be easy. I feel the bile creeping up my throat when I read the news, so it will be a difficult task to swallow it back down without grimacing.

Is there some sort of patch available to help me better swallow the reasons why the elderly might be evicted from nursing homes here in Kentucky?

In the immortal words of the Ramones, I wanna be sedated.

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