Fermenting in lock down

I can feel it, deep inside, brewing.
A bubble pops, releasing the foul aroma of frustration that expands and grows until it surrounds my heart.
Time passes and the fermenting continues. Bubbles of frustration continue to pop until my heart is surrounded by more frustration than it can bear.

My heart, fully aware of the danger and needing to protect itself, sends its own ingredient into the mix – a burst anger.

And as forced inaction lengthens into eternity, I finally recognize what is brewing in my chest.

REVOLUTION

I am a grown woman.
I’ve been married more than 35 years.
I’ve successfully raised 4 children.
I have a good education (a bachelor and two masters degrees), 10 published books, and more than a dozen screenplays under my belt.

Yet, I’m being told that I don’t have the mental capacity to wash my hands and keep germs at bay.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” they say. “We’ll do the thinking for you.”

As if!

I am, by nature a rule follower. It feels right.

But, for the first time in my life, I TRULY understand how the American Revolution came to be. Once that fermentation process is in full swing everything changes. Nature takes over.

And nature does not like being locked down.

Anyone in the mood for a tea party? You know, like the kind they had in Boston, oh, so many years ago?