March Malaise

It rains one day, and it snows like a mother the next.

The time change tosses my sleep cycle out the window.

We have a president, who I really wanted to vote for but couldn't, who now shrieks, "The sky is falling!" about the economy, but ignores that the economy now affects him personally and brings his wife and children back to Chicago, two weeks after he takes over the White House, at great expense to tax payers like you and me, because "they miss Chicago."

It must be nice.

I wouldn't know, because I don't have Air Force One at my personal disposal.

Crazy people shoot their families and bystanders, and that same president wants to take our ability to protect ourselves and our own families away from us.

Co-workers are laid off.

The Divine Miss Marilyn isn't there to snuggle under the covers with me any more.

That same Chicken Little president pisses off not only our best allies -- the Brits, because he's got a personal agenda -- but also the Israelis.

He's sent agents back to the Taliban. And now we're supposed to send soldiers, some of whome are friends of mine, back to Afghanistan to clean up the mess he just made worse.

Does he really think radical muslims will forgive us, much less embrace our culture?

Apparently, he does.

How frightening is it that he has turned his self-righteous back on our known good, faithful allies for what are apparently personal reasons?

He's overwhelmed?

Of course he is. He has absolutely no experience with running anything, let alone a country, successfully.

But a strong person doesn't run home when he is overwhelmed. He doesn't throw a party or two and hope that the bad crap goes away: he goes to work, knuckles down and figures out what must be done, clean or dirty, and gets it taken care of. He holds his good allies close.

So far, I see a road show and a teleprompter. Unfulfilled promises, and bad judgment.

A strong person also doesn't believe that throwing pile after craptacularly large piles of money at problems large and small solve them -- it doesn't.

Sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal with it. You encourage Americans to remember that their parents did just that.

Lest any of you take offense at that notion, I have had to and done just that in the past, and will do it again in the future. That's how I was raised. That's how I roll.

I've personally had to choose between peanut butter sandwiches and macaroni and cheese. I've lost endless nights of sleep over paying my rent. And I was married to a well-meaning guy who had no idea what it meant to earn a paycheck with no Uncle Sam for a safety net.

Full disclosure here -- I've lost my own home. The details don't matter. What does matter is that it didn't define me as a person, and it didn't kill me.

I learned to pull my socks up and deal.

I'm tired of whiny people.

I want the real America back.

People who'll pull their own damned socks up and deal with it.

I'll be back, but right now I think I need a break.