Dear Mr. VP,
Something that has always been true about me has become even more true since I started living on my own. I plan. I am a planner. (Note: this does not mean that I am organized, at all. This became readily apparent last night as I tore my house apart looking for my social security card. Still missing.)
Once, in anticipation of a stop in Savannah, Georgia, on a road trip, I made a reservation for lunch at a restaurant. I made the reservation three months in advance. 75% of the tables were open when we got there, but damnit, I’d been prepared, and I already knew what I wanted to order.
The past few months of job searching and trying to figure out where G will be for his last year of daycare/preschool have been incredibly disregulating, but now I have a job, a spot for G, and a bit of room to breathe. Plans are in place.
So it boggles my damn mind when people don’t plan. How do people just go about their business with last minute plans, or no plans at all? No clue.
It especially boggles my mind when people have no plan in place for the biggest things in their lives. Or the lives of their constituents. Like this currently debacle with ACA repeal.
Repeal with no replacement? I mean, WHAT? No one even knows what legislation is going to be debated, and there’s a vote tomorrow. When I get a little antsy about a lack of plan for a date, or for what I’m eating for dinner, one could arguably tell me to get over it and be completely within the realm of acceptable. But this is the lives of millions of people on the line and there’s NO PLAN.
Fred Tuttle, who I’m almost certain would have voted for Trump, is still probably rolling in his grave.
Y’all are absurd.