I'm Finally a Writer

Notes on this week's election pain and how it feels to finish my manuscript

It’s just that I really wanted Kamala to win. I believed in what she stood for, I was so impressed with the veracity and toughness that she approached the last three months for. My algorithms told me that she would win, that it would be a landslide. So for the first time after an election, I stood in my kitchen and cried.

A dark cloud followed me everywhere that day. I was making scrambled eggs. Cried. I sat on my couch and scrolled. Die. I went to pick up the kids from school, zombie-like in my duty.

“What the hell is happening,” were the texts in my What’s App friend chats.

“I feel so dead inside.”

“I really do not understand.”

“So does America just hate women? And us? Because we are Asian?”

Then, as quickly as the storm had come, a new thought: oh fuck this and my wallowing, fuck this fucking shit. What can I do to be productive?

If they’re going to take away women’s rights over grocery prices, and they’re going to do it while laughing, then there’s no more time to waste…