Three days more of work, then no work until next year.
Maybe.
I, because I am who I am, will monitor things, and be there as long as there’s still mutual desire.
But I’m finished, and I really can’t bring myself to care about much of anything. I did get this from someone who’s actually been reading what I was writing.
But I’m finished with this year, really. Kind of appropriate background music.
What can I do, more, to get away from the craziness? I don’t know, and I’m not really thinking clearly.
I started to lay things out specifically, but I’m not sure there’s a real reason to do that.
Though, if everything goes well, it’ll be a late ending on Wednesday, and I can just step away.
News.
Last night, during our weekly pandemic get-together, there was a lot of discussion about what’s going on with the whole SolarWinds thing.
This was in my go-to online news feed when I’m writing.
The news source gets the conclusion wrong, I think, but I shouldn’t expect more, really. This shit is confusing, and you’ve got competing groups who don’t want to change what they do once they’ve become accustomed to operating in one way.
That goes to politics, too, I guess. The article is irresponsible, but it makes the fifty-something editor feel warm inside.