The last evening Trump was elected, a guy got shot and died on my lawn.

So I can’t help but be a little superstitious.

I’m serious.

The craziness was directly to the right of this scene.

It was election night, on the tail end of a night of captioning election results. I was alone; not sure where my brother was but I lived with him, and was wrapping up work. And all of a sudden I hear gunshots somewhere close to the house as I’m taking off my headphones.

Sure enough in the front yard I see a truck slowwwly drifting toward the curb going south, and then a bunch of dudes running away north. And then one of the dudes rolls over onto my front lawn under my tree and starts screaming for help. So I run to my room and turn off the light and look out the window; ended up calling 9–1–1 myself. His girl comes running back and starts crying with him.

I can’t remember what ended up happening to him, but the truck had a dead guy in it. Don’t really remember what I ever found out about it because by the time their court happened, I’d moved again.

Anyway, the walls of my house had gigantic windows facing to the south and East. When cops got to my house to take a statement they informed me that there were bullet holes on my south wall about 1 and 2 feet from the window. If the shooter’s body was turned just a centimeter more left, Bullet B through that window would’ve slammed straight into my back.

That all happened the exact moment my national news broadcast signed off on election night and I was about to get up from my desk.

I’ve had a couple close calls with other traumas since that have created neuroses- drunk drivers, almost flipping my car on the highway, getting hit by a car in NYC during Covid times, getting T-boned on my passenger side with the love of my life in that seat. They all happened this time of year almost to the week.

Here we are tomorrow and the guy could very well be elected again, and there I will be, captioning the same broadcast at the same time slot in a city I am scared of and never moved out of, because they contain people and animals that I love and don’t want to leave (/leave alone). It makes a girl spooked. Like the conditions are ripe for the next close call as the pattern continues.

That’s why I feel superstitious.

Fast forward to now, I’ve felt this pull to get out of my boyfriend’s house in this godforsaken city and back to mom and dad’s about an hour south. I’ve been procrastinating moving or organizing anything in order to shift my time to mostly be there. My happy little family in Denver, and our little daily rituals, I just don’t want to leave it. But what if procrastinating is about to bite me in the ass tomorrow?

What if some crazy shit is going to go down? I have been wanting to leave here for a long time. So what if some symbolic 8-year karma is about to crash back down on me or my circle of loved ones because I was supposed to be outta here by now? (And could have avoided it by listening to my gut and getting a move-on a long time ago)

If some crazy shit went down, I’d probably want to be with my mother and father with all the safety and opportunities they and the family business afford me, rather than here, where I am constantly broke and get scared away from doing anything fun in the city anyway. It feels like a sacrifice either way. I cannot understate how much I love living with my wonderful guy and our relationship and everything THAT does for my soul and personal growth.

And maybe I’m sacrificing for nothing, because there’s a perfectly good chance that there won’t be some kind of civil war or mini civil war and people manage themselves well no matter the outcome. Or maybe something unexpected will happen, like that there will be enough 3rd party voters that neither candidate gets to 270. (guilty) I think that would be awesome.

Anyway, this whole depressing superstitious circle could also just be my brain doing PTSD things thanks to the so many close calls. Maybe nothing bad will happen, but these feelings tonight scared me into making a plan to do what I know that I need to do.

I can’t wait for this election to be over. Hopefully everything will be fine.

Drunk drivers: