Sometimes I wonder if the Romans knew the end of their era had arrived. Who would have thought an orange, racist man who wasn’t very bright would be the end of ours.

Clearly, he has to go. Hopefully we can manage that in November.

I’m not sure if we’ll ever not be wearing masks, if that’s permanently changed as well, if restaurants won’t be a thing anymore. We’re may be on the other side of a one-way exit, with no going back.

That thought is not a pleasant one.

Meanwhile it’s sunny with puffy clouds, like the planet doesn’t have a care in the world, and maybe now it doesn’t, or has less of one. It’s quiet, but not in a way that helps me to focus.

Though that could be me, not it.

And with that, I’m off into the rest of the day. Have a good Tuesday.

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Check out  my full-length novels: 
Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   
Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 
Her Cousin Much Removed
The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.
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