I need to pack. Nothing is right. Everything should have been done, but now it’s time to leave, and I’m still trying to figure out what to wear. Melania (no damn joke) arrives to say it’s time to go. We can’t keep Donald waiting. She’s wearing high heels that must be 24 inches tall. I say, “I could wear heels.”
NOTE: Disclaimer here. I am not, and never will be, going anywhere in heels! I refer to this as my Baron Trump Dream, and sincerely hope it never returns.