It’s finally happened: I’m too tired to write.

No, not physically tired; I’m feeling just fine, and thanks for asking.

But as I sat down on Friday evening to prepare this post for Saturday morning, I found myself stymied. Oh, there’s plenty of subject matter, thanks to the people (you know who they are) who remain hard at work transforming our world into one gigantic, sucking wound. In fact, there’s so much material, I’m thinking the world should have an Exchange Department where we could simply turn in the unacceptable parts for better ones.

Honestly, I’m sick and tired of all of it. How much more can I say about . . . let’s see, now . . . Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, Elon Musk, Xi Jinping, Kim Jong Un, Stephen Miller, Pete Hegseth, that Ayatollah guy in Iran, Natalie Harp, secret meetings in Moscow, a trade war with Canada (!), Venezuelan oil, drones crossing into NATO countries, and all the rest of the daily ration of crap?

And on top of all that, our world has been further diminished this week by the loss of Dolly Parton, Tim Curry, and King Harald V of Norway. It’s been a sad, sad week.

So I’m taking the rest of the night off to recharge. I think a good, old-fashioned gothic novel is just what I need tonight to transport me back to a simpler, more genteel time.

I’m sure something will happen overnight, somewhere in the world, to snap me back to attention when I read about it in the morning. Until then, I wish everyone a peaceful night.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
8/29/26