I gave myself the day off. And once again I am reminded of the telegram that President Lincoln sent to General McClellan on October 25, 1862: I have just read your dispatch about sore tongued and fatiegued [sic] horses. Will you pardon me for asking what the horses of your army have done since the battle of Antietam that fatigue anything?
Just what have I done to deserve a “day off”? Aren’t all of my days “off”?
I am trying not to think about the upcoming election. Frankly, I am terrified. If the good guys win, all hell breaks loose. And if the other side wins, totalitarianism reigns. Things have been this bad before in our history. I just didn’t think it would happen again in my lifetime. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I am not sure there is anything anyone can do. The current insanity will burn itself out. With considerable damage, I fear.
At least my old age isn’t boring. I am boring. My life is boring. But, outside of my self-imposed bubble, it isn’t boring. It’s terrifying.
Gratitude
Grateful that my brain can still use VLOOKUP and AVERAGEIFS in Excel. This is not to say that my brain can remember the names of my next-door neighbors.
Happy Hour. Soon.