Slept "better" last night, but still dragging today. I had a sudden infusion of energy watching last night's SNL cold open, followed by the news out of Iowa.
Dare we hope?
I don't know.
Something I supposedly know, isn't much comfort these days. But then, maybe being comfortable isn't what's important.
I'm supposed to have faith. "The way of the warrior is to say, 'Yes!' to it all." That whatever happens, everything is exactly the way it is supposed to be.
But fear seems to be close to getting the upper hand, and maybe that's an underestimate.
For me, that is. Can't speak for anyone else.
I don't often remember my dreams. Years ago, almost never. In recent years, more often. I remember having dreams last night. Navy dreams. Old shipmates. Trying to get gear fixed. Missing parts.
I'm tired though. I'm sick of Trump. I'm sick of what he's done to us. What we've allowed him to do.
Whatever happens Tuesday, it's not a punctuation mark. Well, it's not a period. It'll just clarify what we have to do next. Because nothing is ever over. Different, perhaps. Not over. Hell, the Civil War isn't "over."
Maybe Tim Walz is right.
"We'll sleep when we're dead."
Originally posted at Nice Marmot 11:55 Sunday, 3 November 2024