Sunday of Third

I think we have a lesson here. With days that begin with a mile-and-a-half run, cleaning up, Morning Prayer at 7:30, days full of prep, teaching, meetings, and marking, home at 18:30, dinner, and evening entertainment, blogging simply falls by the wayside.

Okay, let’s add in doom-scrolling.

We won’t know for another ten days, but maybe if the Buffoon of the United States loses the election I’ll be a little less uneasy. It’s too much to hope that COVID will subside or that Brexit won’t be an unmitigated calamity, but fretting about the collapse of American democracy (while my family and many others whom I care about still live there) has haunted me for the past four years. I think I’ve adjusted to Coronormal conditions, and Brexit… well, I can’t imagine the scale of the economic and transport consequences of that. One crisis at a time.

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