Piecemeal thoughts on a Wednesday:
“Like” and “like” and “like”—but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?
— Virginia Woolf, The Waves
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It is easy for me to forget that God cares about little things. I’m a little thing, after all.
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Even though I very much hope one of the candidates loses, if I am really being honest with myself, I don’t think much will change at all, regardless of the victor. Such is the nature of the American political machine. It has made me an unapologetic cynic with regard to all politicians everywhere. Machiavelli was the one to convince me not to become a political science major during my freshman year and I still think of him when I watch the debates or muddle through social media posts; it’s all a farce, all a dirty game.
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I miss my family.
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I need to read some lighthearted, dreamy fiction. Flannery O’Connor and Jesmyn Ward and Samuel Beckett all back-to-back = Violent, dark times. I need some fluttering, social web-spinning, 19th-century British ladywriters, STAT.
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Lately, I have been so thankful for my job and for the work that I do. I am grateful for my coworkers, for the camaraderie that we have, for the rarity of our very happy workplace coexistence. I love being an editor. I’m so glad I found this profession.
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New Life Goal: Read 100 books a year for the rest of my life.
Little Stories 