I try to keep light and upbeat here, but the world surrounding me is NOT cooperating.
First, the weather. It’s as if Henrik Ibsen and Alexander Solzhenitsyn collaborated to create a sunless, damp, drab landscape against which to write the world’s most soul-crushingly depressing novel ever. (They’re working on a stage version, too.)
Yesterday, Paul Konrad said we would “struggle” to reach 50 degrees. He still put 50 degrees up as the high. I think he was afraid of how we’d take it if we read anything less, so he was giving us false hope. Nice try, Konrad. We weren’t fooled.
Also, I read the news. Enough said.
And, I read this today. Stop, already. Just stop. Can we not have nice things? Ever?
I think I’ll go look at the box of not-yet-inflated hippity hops I bought for the block party. Maybe that will cheer me up.