It Started with Frontline at 4 am

This morning I woke up with a stomach ache. It was one of those things that interjected  into my dreams. So I woke up a bit irritated and decided to watch the PBS. Frontline was on and it was awesome. It got me all riled up again about the debt crisis even though it had nothing to do with the debt crisis. I went back to bed at about 5 am angrier than hell. I laid in bed stewing. I was so mad, I was so mad that I seriously consider creating some spoken word poetry. I was seriously THAT mad.

As a general rule, I hate poetry and most of the time bad spoken word poetry is a bunch of indignant, self-important, crap. I was mad enough that I didn’t care. I thought about what I would have to do to get it recorded while I composed it in my head. I thought about having to find my webcam, getting myself looking decent,  get my webcam software downloaded, edit any video, post it on youtube, and the list kept getting longer. I fell asleep instead. The world was saved from some bad spoken word poetry by my laziness. Score one for the good guys!

I woke back up much later with an improved stomach and I was far less angry until I checked my e-mail and saw Boehner’s over tanned reptile face and read quotes from speeches he has given lately. I got mad all over again. I started ranting about all of it. Then my rant went all historical like my rants tend to do. I genuinely believe this time, right now, has a great chance to completely change the path of the U.S for the good or for the catastrophic. (I am totally not going to get into that. You guys are not interested why I believe that way and if you are I will right about it later.) I was calling Boehner everything but an intelligent, talented statesmen.

I got all frustrated again when I realized there was nothing my anger could do. Writing about my political frustration feels pretty pointless. I live in Oklahoma and I am a moderate with liberal leanings. My effect here is like throwing a hotdog down a hallway. (Think sex and you will get that simile.) I was so worked up until I saw this:

It didn’t make the crisis go away, or my anger. I am still unbelievably frustrated with this country, its politicians, and its people. I just had to laugh though. That laughing put everything in perspective. I like perspective.

There is a chance our country is going to go to shambles. I vote, I try to keep up and stay informed. I vocalize my feelings. I have done everything I can.

I realized how ridiculous this morning was with my spoken word poetry aspirations. I had to make fun of myself. Then, I went outside to take out the trash and I got dive bombed by a butterfly IN THE FACE. It swooped in and landed on my nose and flew off three times. You can’t swat a butterfly. That is the karmic equivalent to punt a cute fuzzy puppy. So, I was attacked by a butterfly. Oh how I am blessed with a feeling of the ridiculous.