Some days there isn’t much to say.
This wouldn’t be a problem if I hadn’t made a vain promise in a desperate moment over a month ago, staring down an unknown amount of time in isolation, to write here every day.
What an idiotic boob I was about ten or eleven seconds ago.
But here I am, and I don’t want to kill the streak just yet, so I’m writing, but it’s one of those days when there isn’t much to say.
Or, maybe there’s a bit to be said, but I’m not going to say it right now.
Today is equal parts frantic boredom* and nice moments and existential dread brought on by Ken Burns’s “Civil War.”
So, in the spirit of smothering the streak rather than killing it outright, that will do for now.
*Frantic boredom is entirely unique, I pray, to this weird time in our lives