A lawyer working in TrumpWorld illustrates how miserable it is to do so while having functioning brain cells.
She hated going to work. In the lobby of the Justice Department building, six blocks down Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House, Newland had to pass under a large portrait of the president. Every morning as she entered the building, she avoided looking at Trump, or she used side doors, where she wouldn’t be confronted with his face. At night she slept poorly, plagued by regrets. Should she have pushed harder on a legal issue? Should she engage her colleagues in the lunchroom again? How could she live with the cruelty and bigotry of executive orders and other proposals, even legal ones, that crossed her desk? She was angry and miserable, and her friends told her to leave. She continued to find reasons to stay: worries about who would replace her, a determination not to abandon ship during an emergency, a sense of patriotism. Through most of 2018 she deluded herself that she could still achieve something by staying in the job.
Then there were Tump attacks on FBI director Andrew McCabe and his wife Jill, with Trump forcing McCabe’s firing 26 hours before McCabe was eligible for his pension.
TrumpWorld is worse than a swamp. It’s a cesspool.