Now a newly single woman, I went to the nearest pub to celebrate my freedom with a beer. I love me a good beer.
The divorcing process took a long time - but only because Joachim was whining about it. Because I am Angela Merkel, everything was finalised in a couple of hours, really. I could've been done much earlier today, but no. Joachim took his time trying to persuade me that this was the wrong decision. I didn't care. Time to be free.
The pub is a nice one, of course. One for elites, only. This pub is special, because it was my idea to build it in Germany. The entry fee is 1000 euros, so that the poor folk cannot enter and tarnish the exquisiteness of this pub. Only politicians, celebrities and relatives of such highly ranked people in society are welcome.
As I sit down and order my beer, a song very familiar comes on. It is my second favourite - my favourite song being Fight Song. But you already know it. It is the Hurrian Hymn No. 6 - the oldest song in the world. It reminds me of my teenage days. Back in my day, this was a bop.
My eyes waft over the dance floor wistfully as I recall my youth and how I used to dance to this absolute banger. Then I remember that I am free and divorced, and I can do anything I want to do. So, since my body ached to dance, why not dance?
I move to the dance floor, forgetting my beer, and feel the music enter my body. It courses through me like my private river no one knows about because it is highkey illegal to own a river. My body sways to the rhythm of my youth, and suddenly my joints didn't feel so rusty anymore. And so I dance.
I dance like the dancing queen who is young and sweet, only seventeen. I dance the night away like Van Halen. I dance like the quirky Angela Merkel I am.
Here is what I look like when I dance:
Guess you could say I really Let It Go, huh?
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