"There was no hollow promise that life would reward you."
So, yesterday was utter, unadulterated shit. Today has to be better, because I'm too tired for it to be worse. This morning I have a raging headache, and it's still, so far, a better day than was yesterday. At least there's intermittent sunlight out there, and it's a little warmer. Currently, in Providence, it's 79˚F, which a heat index of 82˚F. Looking ahead at the projected temperatures for August, it's probably safe to say that summer is over, all six weeks of it, and green autumn has begun in earnest. If we hit 90˚F on any given day between now and mid-September, I'll eat my words.
Despite the chaos and anger, I did manage to write 808 words on "The Cats of River Street (1925)." Maybe today I'll actually manage to reach the one thousand word mark. Maybe.
I banned seven or eight people from my Facebook page yesterday. It was that sort of day.
I live in a world where children are no longer being taught cursive. Apparently, this has been going on for some time, but I was only recently made aware of it. It saddens me deeply, a culture simply throwing away part of itself like that. How long until schools stop teaching handwriting altogether?