Only one more week, my friends!
One more fucking week. I can get up on Sunday, go to the coffee shop, buy a fucking NY Times (for the first time in 8 years!) and a double tall soy mocha (extra hot) and sit down and read it without worrying about vomiting it back up upon seeing W's face and/or reading about some fucked up thing he has done. Who would have believe it would have taken this long!
The damage is done.
Clearly.
Can't be undone.
This is like the Shire after the "Lord of the Rings" Trilogy.
Scars, but at least we have peace for a while.
My only problem now is what kind of champagne!
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