It’s approximately 12:30 on January 20, 2021. I can tell you right now that I am going to be useless for the rest of the day. Like many people, I have been looking forward to the end of Donald Trump’s term in office like it was the only lifeline to my future.
I feel it already. It’s not hyperbole to say I can breathe now. My lungs literally feel less constricted than they have since election night, about two-and-a-half months ago. I can go to sleep tonight and not worry that I will wake up to some new horror. Maybe I can even leave my phone in my bedroom now when I get up in the middle of the night to pee.
As the day got started, I was determined to treat it as my own personal New Year’s celebration. I bought a mini bottle of champagne and a celebratory ice cream bar (full size -- I’ve never allowed my blood sugars to take the hit of a full-sized bar but the occasion seemed to call for something special) in preparation for today. I started watching the coverage at six a.m. Too much punditry, but I wasn’t going to be assured of a nice, uneventful inauguration until it was done and I had seen it for myself.
And I did. I saw the speakers, the singers, the troop revue. But I didn’t make it past that moment in the national anthem when Lady Gaga turned to the flag when she sang the line “and our flag was still there.” That was the point where I first choked up. By the time Amanda Gorman recited her poem about unity, I was bawling like a toddler. In the course of one hour, I went through the full gamut of emotions: anxiety over the safety of our new leadership; relief the moment Kamala Harris finished her oath because God forbid the worst happened, the new chain of succession was secured; more relief when Biden finished his; pride over the message of the day and in our first female and Black and Asian Vice President; regret and anger over the events of the last five years, counting from the moment Trump descended on his golden escalator and immediately attacked Mexicans in order to get attention; and a certain level of satisfaction to realize that our new president comes from the ranks of the disabled.* I am sure my subconscious experienced more emotions, which I may or may not recognize given time and space from today.
Experiencing such a range of emotions in such a short time has worn me out. Monitoring Twitter tells me I am not the only one. In fact, the now-emotionally-numb may be the majority. Good thing I hit the treadmill earlier because my blood sugars would be all over the place otherwise. Soon there will be a virtual inaugural parade, and right now I am glad that I am not downtown (I would have gone had there not been threats to the safety of the event), because now I can watch in my pajama pants and finish my champagne.
I am not sure I will even remember anything I see today beyond the ceremony. That’s ok. Tomorrow I will be productive. Today I am useless.
*President Biden has a speech impediment, which is disability.