My home state is a joke. I was living in Portland, Oregon in 1999, when I decided it was time to move home to Florida.

Gradually, since returning, this place has become something that no longer feels like home.

We elected our first black governor, but it’s nothing to celebrate. I doubt he got much of the black vote. He’s an embarrassment; his spouse is an embarrassment. They are both being investigated for corruption. He, donalds, is a lapdog to both trump and DeathSantis. He’s pro-data center. Florida has the most unique ecosystem in the lower 48. It’s been precariously surviving for decades. donalds will trash it. I have absolutely no doubt.

I’m just disgusted, furious, depressed, worn out, and anxiety riddled (I’ve been on anti-anxiety meds since trump’s first installment. The longest I’ve ever been on such medicine).

I’ve completely lost faith in the cognitive skills of the general Florida population.

I’ve already priced apartments in NW Portland. My ex-husband is right; OREGON is my real home,

More on this shit later. Maybe much later. I watched a rerun of, “Dateline.” Yes, watching true crime about murder and mayhem was calming compared to what the election was doing to me.

I just had a thought looking for an Image for this little bloggy post. Hurricane season doesn’t end until 11/30. Yeah, we deserve a big one—big fat wide one.