This little piggy went to Walgreens

I would never claim that my hometown or Central Missouri in general is anywhere near perfect, but I did grow up assuming certain things about the world.

I believed in the honesty and integrity of the police to uphold and follow the law. (Heaven forbid such a level of naiveté.) Granted, scandals and exceptions were to be expected, but they were just that - scandals and exceptions. Or if there was a pervasive problem, at least it was not wantonly and egotistically flaunted without shame or fear of punishment.
But bottom line - Cops followed the laws. Cops enforced the laws. Cops were good, hard-working people.

... I'll stop there rather than counter with an angry diatribe about the corruption and racism in this city that disgust me. I can't fathom either though I could clinically dissect both and write essay upon essay about the subjects. None of it makes sense at a personal level.
It's a shame, and it makes me sick... and no angry, self-righteous rant will make me feel better. Rather, I'm just left feeling horribly sad and bewildered. But I do know that when people ask me where I'm from, I still answer, "Central Missouri." I don't want to be associated with the ugliness that I see here.

...

I hesitate posting this at all since I don't want my blog to be bitchy or whiny or preachy or glum. In the rare occasions when I do write about or touch on a serious topic, I do so as lightly as possible. But I've been in a combination Anne/Eeyore mood this weekend, and so my sense of humor fails to help me navigate the craphole of decaying human morality. Ok, ok, that's a bit extreme... but such is my mood.

I ate my bologna sandwich, drank my apple juice, and drove to Walgreens. Obviously, I should have grabbed my book and crawled in the tub for a soak instead.