“Who invited you into my bed?” I muttered – eyes wide open at 3 am.

“There’s just not enough room for you here – my husband is trying to sleep, can’t you hear his lovely snore?”

“Why do you keep showing up– I don’t need you here – I’m so not into a three-way.”

But he wouldn’t leave. He just lay on me like a clammy towel. I tossed and turned trying to move him from the bed but he was so damn persistent.

“Why is it every time I’m trying to get a good night’s sleep you show up uninvited? You know it’s not only rude, it’s disruptive – you are so disruptive and you’re always too loud – and frankly, obnoxious,” I growled.

I kicked my legs – jumped out of bed – and he followed me…that little monster tagged along into the bathroom with me. “Uggh – go away!”

I splashed cold water on my face – reapplied some anti-wrinkle cream thinking 2x a night might be doubly effective.

I turned on the ceiling fan and, as I got back into bed, there he was – right next to me. I was pissed.

“How long are you staying this time anyway? You have got to be quiet and stop repeating that same crap over and over again — I don’t want to wake my husband up and I’m not enjoying you one bit – you’re so full of yourself and there is no way you care about anyone but yourself.”

I finally sat up, crossed my legs — put the European square pillow supportively behind my back and started to take slow easy breaths. My eyes were closed tight – I couldn’t bear opening them and seeing him still here. I listened to the sound of my breath and linked it to my husband’s snore and for a while he was quiet. And then I slowly slid back down under the covers.

Nope – still here you little bugger.

I reached for the Kindle. Thank God I didn’t finish that book last night when you were here because I’m looking for comfort and it’s on those pages.

Slowly – slowly as my eyes absorbed the story my lids started to get heavy and I shut him out.

My husband gently tapped me to get up – I thought I’d just fallen asleep – but it was light out – I had slept late.

“What happened to you last night? You weren’t in the bed – then you were in the bed – what was going on?”

I could barely talk about it, I was embarrassed to admit that I had spent another night with that creep so I chose to shrug it off telling him – I’m fine – just took awhile to find my way back into sleep but not until I resolved a few things.

But then I came clean. “You know, I’ve been disgusted with Donald Trump. He’s the guy we hated in college – the loud mouth – the elitist – magnetic in a way that leaves us wondering why we even stick around to listen. I can’t understand the ‘grip’ he has on our country. I keep thinking that we are smarter than this – why would people in need want someone who is such an elitist and a buffoon. He’s the most transparent salesman ever!“

“Calm down, honey – he’s not going to get elected,” my husband reassured me.

And then that’s when I had to tell him.

“I’ve had recurring dreams about The Donald and last night it was the worst ever. I dreamt Donald Trump was elected president — and then I woke up in a cold sweat — and the room started spinning. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t shake him off – he was here to stay and wouldn’t go away and then I realized no matter how much I tried to block him out –he was in our bed.”

“Really – The Donald was in our bed?”

“Yes, with that hair thing – and that creepy forehead and that sassy annoying smug grin of his.”

“My husband laughed and told me I’d been too obsessed with these debates.”

“I’m not obsessed I countered – I’m disgusted.”

OK, maybe I’m a little obsessed. It has been frustrating watching how incapable our political system is at attracting smart, dedicated, altruistic leaders. It seems we have to twist arms to get candidates to step up to serve our country.

For instance, just this week, they couldn’t even find anyone to take the most powerful and coveted position in Congress – and finally Paul Ryan agreed to do it – but he had conditions.

And then, the debate — it was a joke which our opinion writers and comedians have had a field day with. Jeb has no spine, Rubio has the worst no-show record for voting – he’s basically skipped out defending himself by saying he’s been busy running for president. Carson is frightening with comments like, “the lack of guns allowed the Nazis to carry out their evil intentions with relatively little resistance.” Thus making the point that we need more guns to avoid this happening again. Oy!


And then there’s the rest of the line-up – I can barely remember their names.

It seems that no one with a brain wants to be president – except Hillary, of course – why do we even bother with this whole debate – it’s just bad theatre. We need someone to lead in “real time.”

How are we supposed to talk to our kids about this country without cynicism? I love this country!

No wonder I can’t sleep. Who is going to run this country? I need to know someone is in charge that has credibility and knows what she or he is doing.

I can’t get up and do my work if The Donald doesn’t get out of my Goddamn bed. I can’t do my job if I’m up all night worrying about who is going to run our country.

But per usual, my husband had the perfect solution. He told me he was inviting Hillary to sleep over – and assured me there would be no room for The Donald in our bed. I was so relieved and couldn’t wait to get into bed. How did you find her? Are you sure she will join us?

“Stop worrying – I’ve got this one figured out,” he said.

So last night my husband propped our laptop between us on the European Square “meditation pillow” cued up YouTube and then pressed “play.”

And as we watched Hillary being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon playing Trump, I laughed along with six million others and felt sweet comfort drape over me. Juxtaposed against the hilarity of Fallon’s brilliant mimicry of Trump, Hillary was getting her points across which were totally relatable. “My husband sure is clever,” I thought and I laughed myself into a sound sleep.

PS: I slept like a baby tucked in with what I believed would be the only person to take care of business in this country – Our former First Lady—Hillary Clinton.












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