God and I took a walk around the Capital building in Washington, D.C. There was all kinds of activity going on as preparations were being made for Friday’s inauguration ceremonies.
I said I was feeling anxious about the new administration.
God said, “That makes sense since you’re pretty neurotic.”
I then cited a bunch of specific reasons that it made sense for me to be nervous.
God said, “See what I mean?”
I took my Thursday morning walk through the woods with the ghost of George Washington.
I said, “You seem to be walking with an air of despair. What’s up?”
The ghost of G.W. said, “My malady is thus: though I am long dead, I suffer from the shame of a bald pate.” He pulled off his wig, exposing his hairless situation.
I took off my baseball cap, presenting my barren similarity.
We both leaned forward, touching scalps, laughing like coyotes in the moonlight.
This morning I climbed with God to the top peak of Mt. Everest. We sat down and looked around.
I said something droll about being able to see everything but the peak itself.
God said, “I was hoping that the long hike up here would leave you too tired to say anything.”
“It’s me, the Moon. I have extremely low self-esteem because I was never given a proper name. I’m called ‘the Moon.’ Imagine if everyone called you ‘the Person.’ Jupiter has 53 moons and they have all been given heartfelt, thought out names. Europa, Io, Thebe. Thebe!! But me, I’m the Moon.”
“I’m sorry to have taken up your time.”
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