Today, I was sick. And, really, that's about it. I was sick with this cold, and I watched PBS again. All day. Well, it felt like it. Documentaries on the Mesoamerican city of Teotihuacán, the 21st Dynasty pharaoh Psusennes I, and the "lost" diary of David Livingstone. But at least I had enough appetite to eat dinner tonight, black-eyed peas and greens and corn bread, with salt pork and smoked jowl, and I have to say, this year Spooky made the finest pot of collards she has ever made. Too bad we got sick.
Okay. I'm gonna be pedantic. The last day of the second decade of the 21st century will be December 31st, 2020. It was not December 31st, 2019. That second decade still has a whole year to go, minus yesterday. Decades work the same as millennia and so forth. Now, you can cite the "cardinal" method of reckoning decades (rather than the "ordinal" method), but it only works if the first decade of A.D./C.E. was, bizarrely, a mere nine years long.
I'm gonna go try to sleep now.
Oh, wait. I forgot this last night, but I remembered tonight. Last night we watched Trixie Mattel: Moving Parts, and it was absolutely delightful. There, now I can go to bed.