The Year of The Frozen Peas

I dreamed last night I ran into Kellyanne Conway at the grocery store and instantly got into a screaming match with her. We paused only as a group of school kids on a field trip walked by us. I introduced the kids to her as “Mrs. Conway.” This apparently earned me her instant respect because I didn’t call her just “Kellyanne.” We both cried. A clerk restocked the frozen peas. The kids left. I woke up.

My yawning, bleary-eyed, waking reaction? It’s going to be a long, weird, totally messed up 2017.

A friend of mine interpreted it this way:

“This says so much about your character. You treated her as a fellow human being, you broke through the barrier of politics. The tears are for our country, the kids represent our future, and the frozen peas represent the fact that the ordinariness of life still will have to go on even though our future is uncertain.”

Insightful? Totally. How I hope to be seen? Of course. The actual truth? I don’t know.

I’d like to think if confronted by such a foe I would handle the situation like Dream Adam — with goodness and respect. (And that frozen peas are actually metaphors for really deep and amazing things.)

I hope I’d listen. Absorb. Maybe even empathize.

I’m afraid though, given the chance, I’d completely fail the test.

I’m still mad. Really mad. Disgusted. Shaken. Aimless. Cussing 2016 and all of its full-on dumpster-fireness.

I should really resolve to be more like Dream Adam in 2017. Do the bigger thing. Rise up. Show grace.

But, you know what? I’m just not ready. Not yet. And that’s just going to have to be okay.

Instead, here are a few things I do want to do in 2017:

  • Take my mom somewhere she’s never been.
  • Run another half marathon.
  • Digitize my late grandmother’s writings.
  • Read more nonfiction.
  • Floss?
  • Join a writing group.
  • Use my car less.
  • Use social media outside of work less.
  • Use the em dash less. (Scratch that one — who am I kidding?)

And as for that civility thing? Let’s just say for now, Kellyanne Conway, maybe stay out of my local grocery store’s frozen peas aisle. Please?

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