Under the bed

That’s where I plan to be for the next decade.

Under the damn bed. Hiding.

Maybe with a case of oreos and a big jug of wine. I’ll cuddle up with the dust bunnies and refuse to come out for any reason.

Want to know why I’ve decided that huddling under the bed is the best option for the future?

Because I read too much.

I have just finished an article in Rolling Stone in which the author lays out the fact that it is now too damn late to save the planet from the devastating effects of global warming.  Its. Too. Late.  We’re doomed.

I’ve been reading news stories, too.  News stories like the one where Mitt Romney calmly explains why we don’t need new gun laws in our country, even though when he was Gov. of Massachusetts he signed a law banning assault weapons because their only use is to “hunt down and kill humans.”  Now its our most basic human right to arm ourselves to teeth with Uzi’s.  And Barack Obama agrees with him, apparently.    Ergo, I should assume that every time I go to the mall, the movies or a national park, everyone around me will be armed and dangerous.

See why I plan to stay under the bed?

Then there is the story that I read on line yesterday about the inevitability of a global pandemic in the near future.  Gulp. And the PBS special that I saw about future cyber attacks, and how they will be able to completely shut down the power grid for an unknown length of time. No lights, no heat, no working ATM machines, no open grocery stores.  Sooooooo, no food.  Gack!

The rich are getting richer, the government is firmly under the control of megagigantic multinational corporations, guns and ammo are everywhere and its getting hotter and drier by the minute. If a terrorist doesn’t get me, a germ will.

If you need me, just lift up the dust ruffle. When you see a dusty drunk with cookie crumbs in her hair, you’ll know you found me.

14 thoughts on “Under the bed

  1. I’m with you, momshieb – really. It’s become almost too much. My home is my sanctuary more and more these days…


    • I know….what I don’t understand is why I can’t turn it off, or stop reading it? I feel responsible for trying to make things better somehow, so I keep scaring myself. Hence, my new resting place, under the ole bed.


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