Disappeared from the ceiling dance hall
A bit of a back ache; all that is needed to demonstrate just how poorly engineered the human body is. At least, for some. I’m almost done of the discomfort, due to my stubborn streak, but I can see how an ongoing bout would sap the strength. Bed isn’t the best place to spend the day.
The dog didn’t even notice. He still wanted to go in and out and in again, and so I bent to his will. Now that the dark has descended (what a funny way to acknowledge the day/night dichotomy), I can hear the wind, and the moments of rain, and I’m glad to be inside and out of it.
So, what to note about a mid-week day? Not much. The bin is out to the road, ready for tomorrow. The bugs have pretty much disappeared from the ceiling dance hall. I still haven’t checked to see if the TV has anything of value, although the evening still has hours to go. Maybe I’ll turn up the music and dance; is there a better way to beat a back pain moment?
The president that won’t go away spent the afternoon playing his victim card. A new story (featured in the right wing press) says that his opposition paid for research into the dossier that now weighs so heavily on his afflicted shoulders. Oddly, only the right wing seems to have found the story, which leads one to wonder. Is this just a distraction? How much longer can the game continue?
