For the longest time
I thought the lyrics were: couldn’t find my way to marry Ana. But it’s: could find my way to Mariana.
This morning my friend texted me: Did you know Trump, blah, blah, blah, Russia, blah, blah, blah, I knew it was all a lie, blah, blah, blah …etc. Sigh. First of all… geez Louise, it’s not even 8 am. Also, I don’t watch the news whatsoever, so I have zero idea what he’s talking about. I stopped watching the news since covid. There’s a nightmarish vulgarity about the way popular news is delivered lately (always?). Granted, I feel out of the loop when meeting up with friends and such. Idk. I feel like my mental health takes precedence over being au courant.
They’re renovating the suite below me, and it’s making a thunderous racket. The walls and floors are reverberating. The neighbor next door keeps yelling at them to shut the f up. A symphony of chaos.
Is this it? -The Greeting Committee