Chumbawamba

(I started this entry a couple week ago, but petered out. Sister-friend Lorie hearing my silence, recently emailed: "I see you can't bring yourself to write about the election." Nailed it. And I actually couldn't bring myself to write about anything. But, I'm gonna send this, and then start on a "real" entry to keep sharing about life in Liberia.)

November 13 - it's been a week, and I find I still can't read the newspapers. I have spent a grand total of probably less than 2 min on WaPo and NYT web pages since Nov 5. Those 120 seconds only started panic cycles, so I shut it down. No Twitter, no Insta. On Saturday, I swapped in reading the Liberian Daily Observer and African Daily News...but even then, had to skip any articles that talked about the outcome of the US election.

Mercy.

Sister-friend Sue said: "I want to be curious. But I'm not ready yet." I'm 10 steps behind her, pretty much just staving off panic - which, at once, seems both overblown and perfectly rational.

I ain't got no recipe. And, as the greeting card that I took off my fridge in Chattanooga and brought 5,089 miles to put on my fridge here wisely states:

When I see you, I will provide the tequila. You can take/leave any opinions.

(For those of you zooming in, you see my calendar where I am checking off every day. Because as much as I am truly, truly loving my time here and am mute with gratitude, it is far and foreign and I miss you. I mark every day. And when I forget for a couple days, and get to mark 2-3 at a time, it feels even better.)

What am I leaning into to fill the 4+ hours / day that I am no longer reading news and doom scrolling Twitter? Music, reading, walking, podcasts, sleeping, some beach time.

Chumbawamba. Treat yourself to this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iI8zPbEHRl0. I wanna wear that random orange suit that looks like bricks. And goddamn, I'll get up again. We all will.

Peace.