Wednesday morning dawned a bit misty and humid, but by ten the mist was burned off by an intense Texas sun. I staggered down to the studio with the coffee mug and cookies, plopped down in the chair to go through the morning mail and news.
A lot of political posturing dominated the news, and I just scanned the headlines, not worrying over the details. Wokees outraged by this, Critical Racers outraged by that, and people in the middle outraged by the outrages.
I can’t hold on to outrage very long before life intrudes. Mowing my lawn is more important than what the Academic Marxists are teaching the kids this morning. Coffee sippin’ is more current that a leftist bad boy killed by a cop.
I am in outrage overload. Maybe today I’ll just pick up my own cross and carry it. I can’t carry all the others.