Just not sure what to post. Thoughts of the utter devastation in Haiti, our relative insulation from it, parallels to New Orleans, venom toward those who would imply that anyone on this earth deserves a catastrophic disaster, impotence to help, fear for my family’s long term safety, guilt at that selfishness, and so on circle through my day.
I could post a response to someone else’s blog. But I feel uninspired to do so.
I could post a list of things I’m not doing but should be. Meh. That’d bore me even more than it would you.
I could write about how Peanut seems to have turned the corner on the three-year-old phase-from-hell, only 10 months into his fourth year on this planet. There, though, I risk jinxing this week’s reasonable behavior, as well as underreporting just how methodically and soul-deadeningly awful the first 10 months after his third birthday were.
I could detail preschool happenings or University library shenanigans or domestic frustrations or my debate over whether to participate in the Bolano 2666 read coming up.
I could vent frustrations that arise anytime I mingle with humanity, the bulk of which is really quite irksome.
Or I could go to bed early since Spouse is at a party and I’ll be damned if I do dishes while he interacts with both adults and fermented hops.