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It wasn’t the first voicemail I left for my senator. Usually they answer and I tell them a piece of my mind, or I just mail postcards with my specific desire. This time I left a voicemail for my senator giving him a piece of my mind and I said you don’t have to call me back but man you have to do something about this that and the other. My senator’s staffperson called me back. I pictured him wearing a flak jacket and an M1 helmet. He had no idea what he was walking into, but man, he did call me back. He said he heard my message and shared what my senator is doing to try and protect abortion rights. I told that poor young man that I write, I call, I march, I DONATE and after years, OVERNIGHT it’s all gone. It’s not his fault. He asked me to vote when it comes up on the local ballot which I will of course do, as I have always done.

I have a vision for what I want my country, the place I love and want to be. What it looks like. I want people to hold jobs. That they don’t have to work 200 jobs to afford an apartment or buy a home. I want people to send their kids to learn, to grow, to learn how to learn, most importantly.

Tonight the locals are setting off fireworks early. I expected that. Only a douchebag would call the cops on folks trying to have some fun. I’m pretty sure 300 million of us are normal. I’ve been disappointed lately by you all. I’m not sure how long I will see the next election cycle, and I’m not sure how much I want to give my energy. All I know is that my neighbors are going to have a little get together on the Fourth, I’m going to bring some spicy mac and cheese, I love my country, it’s worth fighting for, and I’m really tired.

DON’T. GIVE. UP.