The Rash

I got a rash on my face for Christmas this year.

It was a gift, or, at least it was the byproduct of a gift that was given with the best of intentions.

And because of that, I almost didn’t write about it.

I didn’t write about a lot of things in 2017.

That’s partly because I had so much on my plate that I couldn’t find the energy at the end of a day or week to collect my thoughts in a coherent manner.

My lack of writing was partly because there was just too much going on to address anything in a timely manner. The man currently occupying the Oval Office said and did so many mind-numbing, jaw-dropping, embarrassing things, that something I wrote on Saturday morning would already be obsolete by that afternoon because of  his latest tweet, or handshake, or speech or attempt to drink water with two hands.

And I didn’t write much this year because I live with my greatest critics. And sometimes not writing is easier than dealing with the aftermath of someone feeling misquoted or offended or embarrassed by my interpretation of events.

Which brings us right back to the rash on my face, which is the direct result of a thoughtful Christmas gift that my husband gave me. And, at risk hurting his feelings by sharing with the world that the itchy bumps on my face are his fault, I’m doing it anyway.

That’s because as 2017 ends, the rash symbolizes so much more than my husband’s misguided attempt to help me relax by giving me scented spray for pillows and linens (a spray to which I am apparently allergic).

It’s about having survived almost an entire year (starting on Friday January 20, to be exact) in which our country has been subjected to a rash leader whose impulsive tendencies are causing much bigger problems than just an irritating itch.

Unfortunately, I can’t change the leadership problem in this country as easily as I changed the sheets and pillowcases doused with the rash-causing spray. But that doesn’t mean I have to tolerate it nor should I be silenced.

A rash isn’t just irritating, it can be dangerous when untreated.  The same goes for rash people. And there is no shame in trying to address the root of the problem or finding an antidote.

Here’s to making that a breakthrough discovery in 2018.

About Trina Bartlett

I live in the Eastern Panhandle of WV, with one dog, two cats, a theater kid in high school, a band kid at West Virginia University and a husband who works strange hours. When I'm not working as a director at a nonprofit social service organization or being a mom, I can generally be found riding my bike, walking my dog and stirring things up.

Posted on December 31, 2017, in My life, people, perspective, Politics and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Well-done…I understand why 59 million US citizens are still believers in the snake oil salesman. When someone promises you your cake and you can quickly eat it with zero consequences, it sounds like a great deal. I am not holding my breath that 2018 nor 2019 and beyond will bring an epiphany for these 59 million. They will have to experience their own demise when they are forced to pay the piper.

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