Riding along Storrow Drive this morning, I couldn’t believe how blue the river was. It was beautiful. And yet, I couldn’t possibly enjoy it. It was the type of day where, if I saw someone with a smile on their face, I wanted to beat them. The guy in front of me when I left the condo complex this morning, the one with the Bush sticker: I yelled at him, swearing madly, even though he couldn’t hear me. I wondered, if the terrorists hit the inauguration, who’s the person in the line of succession that they keep hidden away during that? Obviously, Dubya is there and Cheney, too. Would the replacement be any worse?

Work was hard. I can’t imagine how hard it was for the other guy who works part-time there, who is not only a liberal, but a Yankee fan, too. In times like these, I guess you have to sympathize with the people who have it worse than you. Imagine, since New York is a "blue" state, how many Yankee fans are now that much worse off. God, it must be horrible for them.

I’m sure my mood will return to normal gradually. I did look up real estate prices in Nova Scotia yesterday morning, but deep down I know that, as bad as things get, it’s only four more years. I know things are going to get bad, but I don’t think any of the people who voted for him know that yet. When they see—God help us all if they don’t see—they’ll know to make a better decision next time.

Maybe the swift return of my naivete will churn your stomachs. I’m sorry for that. Truth is, with the way I am, I can’t afford to keep going through life like this. It happened, it sucks, and now we have to move on. Because, unless you’re going to kill yourself, this is life, and you have to deal with it.

E. Christopher Clark