I check my Google Analytics once or twice a day, just to see how many people have logged on and which stories are being read. I just checked and noticed that no one — absolutely no one — has stopped by today. I’m a little hesitant to upset the zen perfection of that. I don’t think I’ve actually gone a full day without someone globally stopping by, even purely out of accident. I usually have a few stray international readers who come to the site to read old Montaigne essays. But not today.
That’s actually comforting, in a respect, and today has a soothing feel about it. Maybe it’s the weather in Chicago, which is as close to perfect as a day can be. Maybe it’s the polls that have come out recently, which show Biden holding onto a lead over Trump similar to how it was before the convention. That means that all the frantic activity of the last two and a half weeks hasn’t changed much of anything. That’s comforting — because it shouldn’t. Opinions about the contest should be baked in by now.
I’m not naive, the hellscape will undoubtedly flare up soon. But just for one day, I’d like to think that the worst is over. Maybe the pandemic will slowly ease. Maybe medical science will soon catch up and offer effective treatments and, someday in the near future, a well-tested, safe, effective vaccine.
Maybe we won’t have the soup cans vs. AR-15 civil war that’s been bubbling. Maybe the votes will come in via the mail, drop boxes, early voting and election day, relatively undisrupted, and we’ll have a clear defeat for Donald Trump within a few days of election day.
It’s all possible. We don’t have to anticipate catastrophe, we could choose to at least hold open the possibility that everything isn’t collapsing at once. So today, I’ve had a headache all day, but that’s ok. I’ve carried on and taken it easy and let a faint ray of optimism sit with me for awhile.
Maybe soon we’ll get to properly mourn those we have lost and soothe those who have left so much behind. Maybe.