August sucked.
There's no other way to describe it.
Poor Amy Winehouse's death seemed like some screwed-up harbinger of death and dysfunction, and boy, oh boy, did it ever deliver. The whole month was like a high speed ride down some axle-breaking washboard dirt road, with the rising waters behind and the dark of the moon ahead.
Anxiety became the new normal.
The earthquake and the hurricane, I think everyone knows about them. Power was out for days; for some, it was out for weeks.
The other incidents, far too private to discuss here, were just as devastating. No, they were more devastating. The power outage left in their passing couldn't be reactivated by moving a tree limb and pulling a switch, it was permanent.
I am grateful that the lousy month of August has passed. Here's to new beginnings in September.
There's no other way to describe it.
Poor Amy Winehouse's death seemed like some screwed-up harbinger of death and dysfunction, and boy, oh boy, did it ever deliver. The whole month was like a high speed ride down some axle-breaking washboard dirt road, with the rising waters behind and the dark of the moon ahead.
Anxiety became the new normal.
The earthquake and the hurricane, I think everyone knows about them. Power was out for days; for some, it was out for weeks.
The other incidents, far too private to discuss here, were just as devastating. No, they were more devastating. The power outage left in their passing couldn't be reactivated by moving a tree limb and pulling a switch, it was permanent.
I am grateful that the lousy month of August has passed. Here's to new beginnings in September.
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