Dear Governor Ducey,
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Did you sleep well? I didn’t sleep.
I kept wondering, as I stared at the ceiling at 3 a.m. why I’ve been so grouchy
lately. I got pretty mad at Erik for leaving his shoes on the floor on the way
to bed. Proportionate response? I think not. I guess I’m just feeling a little
oversensitive about who is being considerate to whom. The shoes in my way
seemed like supreme unconcern about my well-being. I shouldn’t take the budget
cuts out on him. I’m just feeling broke and like either of us could lose our
jobs or our jobs could get a lot harder. More students, less time, more
bureaucratic paperwork to fill out to prove I’m not wasting tax payers’ money
although of course the only people paying taxes any more are the poor and the
middle class which seems somewhat backwards but at least they’re not trying to
take away my job. I suppose there is a “if you don’t like it, you can leave”
attitude. It is almost impossible to get new job in universities as an
associate professor. But I could go. I could start somewhere new. I could
change careers. Become a garbage collector or maybe a prison guard. You do seem
intent on driving all the sane people out of this state. At least the educated
and the wealthy and those who have the means to move. As St. Patrick did to
Ireland by getting rid of all the snakes, so too will you get rid of all the
reasonable people in the state. Part of me wants to get the hell out of this
place. But most of me wants to stay and fight before you turn Arizona into a
new Alcatraz. Look how many similar letters—all those A’s and Z’s. I wonder if
you think about letters too. Or maybe you have the good fortune of sleeping well
at night, regardless of the fate of the people in your state.
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