A silence deeper than silence

Pardon my lack of activity for the moment.  I’m already wiped out, anxiously awaiting Friday when it all ends, yet I have another three hours to go this evening, another twelve or fourteen tomorrow—if I’m lucky to have it be that short, and who knows how much on Friday.

It’s been busy.  Not overly busy, mind you, but busy enough to fill more than half a day each day since Monday.  Yuck.

There are times—far too many of them now—when I resent this job, resent not being able to work on my novels as much or often as is necessary, resent not being able to spend more time with The Kids, resent not visiting the family farm as often as I should, resent not visiting my friends with more regularity, resent a great many aspects of this new world wherein I find myself.

Who can deny that capitalism has crushed the dreams of humanity?  If you know someone who thinks differently (other than the disgustingly rich and well-connected, that is), point them out so I can go kick their butt for having an in the rest of us lack.

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