11/9

Kids were OK, they said maybe Michelle Obama can be president next time, we decided they would write to her to ask. Five-year-old was dismayed to learn that DT will be president until she is nine, which feels like forever. When we walked out the door the crossing guard on our corner shouted: 'You remember 9/11? Well this is 11/9. Think about it.' Lots of people were standing around on the corners just crying.

When we got to school the school director and her assistant were standing at the doorway wearing black and hugging everyone as they came in. In the classroom the one kid who voted for Trump in the classroom election was running around shouting: 'Donald Trump is president isn’t that funny?' While the teachers gritted their teeth and the other parents stared at the floor. I couldn’t look at the father, who dresses like one of the villains from Revenge of the Nerds (popped collars, seersucker in winter).

Then I went to my exercise class, where the teacher cried and then played a Martin Luther King speech set to a techno beat and then some Pearl Jam and turned off the lights and it was like one of those 1970s encounter groups, lots of skinny white women and gay men just crying and screaming incredibly loudly in the dark.

At work we watched Hillary’s speech in the conference room. There was lots of crying and handing around of toilet paper rolls for ostentatious nose blowing. They ordered pizza for everyone and then the office manager walked around handing out warm chocolate chip cookies.

It’s bad bad bad bad bad.