The journalist joked that when he took a short nap he’d missed a few breaking news stories. All the other journalists on the New York Times podcast laughed through their exhaustion.
If this presidency were an animal it would be bleeding from a few serious wounds right now.
Reporters and on air personalities are devising creative, near poetic ways to express their fresh bewilderment with every passing day.
Meanwhile, life goes on. Groceries must be purchased and lugged up the stairs to my apartment. Meals must be cooked. And I must work on writing a third book, while promoting my first two.
Work. Work. Sleep. Work. That’s my life, just like everyone else I know.
While the government keeps bleeding out, and the president keeps whining, most people are too busy or too exhausted to follow the story close enough.
What will this period of history look like to people one hundred years from now? Will there be any people left by then? I wonder.