I am so happy about our new president that I get all teary-eyed every time I think about him. I'm just so darn-- I have to say it-- hopeful.
At the same time, R and I both know there are many dark days ahead of our country (and possibly us). One news report said that the recession will last 18 months at least, won't hit bottom until this summer, and after that the rise back into the sunlight will be slow and tedious.
Which brings me to the White House-- or possibly, it keeps me out of the White House. I told R I needed to plan our summer vacation. I'm so worried about my return from California and the post-visit funk, and I thought that planning our next trip would pull me from the gnarly grip of the winter bummers. We finally agreed on D.C. I bought a travel guide.
Meanwhile, R has become more and more concerned with the lack of work coming his way at the office, and tonight he announced-- well, it was more like a hushed plea-- that perhaps it would be unwise to plan a trip at this time.
Of course he's right. How could I disagree with such practicality? Still, I'm not sure I'm up to the long, snowy march toward spring without the big, Capitol carrot dangling in front of my nose.