This morning I woke up to a text from Donald Trump. He was bragging about the people he had fired. He seemed very proud of himself.
As I tried to process this, I got an automated voice message from my landlord, reminding me about some mundane task: rent, maintenance, something I barely caught in my half-awake state.
I sat there, staring at the screen, wondering if I’d somehow wandered into a dystopian fever dream. One moment, the shadow of national politics looms over me; the next, the banalities of everyday life come crashing in. It was as if the universe decided to serve me a surreal cocktail of power and bureaucracy to start my day.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was living in some strange episode of The Twilight Zone—where reality bends just enough to make you question everything but keeps you trapped in the ordinary. All I could do was shake my head, sip my coffee, and prepare to face whatever the next twist would be.
Is this what the next four years will be like? God, help us all.
Steve Holder 