Worry, No Worries

Rural Polling Place

Rural Polling Place

Half of our household budget is paid from wages earned by working in the warehouse. It’s a constant worry and last night highlighted a couple of things.

Up all night coughing due to a cold, or something, I called off today. My worries were about 1). being sick, 2). leaving my superior in the lurch by my absence, and 3). losing the $50 or so, I would have earned today. Each took its mental toll as I rolled and coughed and finally called off around 4 a.m. so the voice mail would be waiting when she arrived to open the office.

It was a reasonable decision, as the condition might worsen had I gone in and worked on my feet, giving people breaks. Coughing and hacking over food samples can never be good, so in the end everyone was served. I suppose the worry serves a purpose too.

After my call, the display on my mobile phone showed the outside temperature was 22 degrees—the first hard frost. A friend wrote:

“I was close to tearful about all my reddish orange raspberries that would have been perfect for harvest in just say three more days. Last year they were completely done a few days before any freeze. Sigh. It was a banner year for raspberries and I’ve loved them all! But I guess harvesting berries past Oct. 31 is really asking for climate change!”

So the season spins, its markers passing rapidly, but recognizably as we tread on in life’s journey. At 1:30 p.m., I had stopped coughing enough to feel ready to sit in my writer’s seat and get to work—tissue box at the ready. I turned from worry to no worries.

Some people worry about a Hillary Clinton presidency, but not me. Few people have the breadth of experience she does, and fewer still focus on the advancement of human rights the way she does. This week she was at the Hamburg Inn No. 2 in Iowa City with Rep. Bruce Braley to have a pie shake—and be seen there. Specifically, a chocolate-bourbon-pecan-flavored pie shake, according to media. It was a sign of something.

I finished her recent memoir, “Hard Choices,” in between coughing spells this morning.

“Now, more than ever, the future is very much on my mind,” she wrote in the epilogue. “Over the past year, as I’ve traveled around our country once again, the one question I’m asked more than any other is: Will I run for President in 2016? The answer is I haven’t decided yet.”

Far be it from me to opine on the matter of whether she should run for office again. But if she does, positives outweigh negatives, by a distance. In sooth, she has no competition among the parade of potential 2016 aspirants testing the political waters in Iowa this election cycle. That is, if experience matters.

If experience doesn’t matter, as a nation we have lost our way.

In my self-imposed quarantine, I’m hoping a couple of things. 1). that I recover my heath well enough to work at the warehouse tomorrow, as we need the income, 2). that Iowans reject Joni Ernst on Tuesday, and send Bruce Braley to the U.S. Senate, and 3). that Hillary Clinton gives fair consideration to throwing her hat in the ring for 2016.

Hopefully that pie-shake reminded her that Iowans are not so bad.

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