- I’m so grateful when 5 or 6 Central time rolls around because it means (for the most part) that the diarrhea storm from DC is done for the day and I no longer have to brace myself for the next microburst.
- We are only five full days into this thing and I have serious concerns about my ability to cope, even accounting for the other stressors in my life right now. I almost had a mind/body disassociative event today.
- See, my job requires me to watch news all day, but I assert my C-level Officer of the Firm status when his face is on. Even his supporters in the room don’t argue; they’re sick of it, too. Today we watched an LPGA tournament instead. Brittany Lincicome shot a taut 64. Big hitter. Long.
- I still have my feet squarely enough beneath me to recognize that an unpleasant series of texts is just that, and to let it slide.
- In addition to the obvious stuff, I have other Complicated Feels™ that I can’t really talk to anyone about, and that sucks. (Please don’t volunteer, even though I appreciate the thought.)
- We’ve finalized our spring break plans (Scottsdale / Grand Canyon) but I’m taking almost no joy in it. Will the airports still be open at the end of March? Would you bet your mortgage on it?
- That fucken post from Friday got a second wind today. Tumblr blows.
- I see you guys talking about escaping on a yacht. I’ll tearfully wave my hanky from the shore as you set sail. I’ll miss you. I don’t do boats. I’m very barfy.