We Made A Choice. You Made A Mistake.

We made it through the presidential ‘debate’ without having to be placed in a medically induced coma, and really, that is all we were hoping for. They aim low, we aim high. That isn’t to say I haven’t a small bit of the pip. The Chili Verde I prepared as a nice accompaniment to unadulterated broadcast villainy gave me a bit of the old heartburn, but these are the burdens one must bear. Vegan privilege and what.

On the way into the office this morning the clinically unhoused seemed to be scattered symmetrically on the sidewalk like flowerpots as though some conscientious urban planner with no small sense of feng shui just placed them there deliberately. It was quite calming and I don’t even go in for that kind of thing.

I’m now sitting at my desk enjoying the small moments I have before everyone arrives and rakes over last night’s spectacle.  The effort I’m going to have to expend trying to pretend I remember a single thing that was said would easily undo a lesser man, but I’m an old hat at near death experience memory retention so I walk in with my eyes wide open, coffee in hand, honestly, unafraid.