Remember

I try to think of things during the day that would be great to post in the evening. There seem to be so many.

And yet. Here we are, with not much to say. About a year ago (almost two years), I read two books in short succession that each employed a narrative technique that involved little stream-of-consciousness sentences such as: "And yet." Even so." "Still." I always think of those books when I write something like that. It was super effective and made an impression on me. Great transitions. Richard Ford's "The Lay of the Land" and "History of Love" by Nicole Krauss.

On the radio this morning.

I hate tumor board in general, today's tumor board in particular. I always sweat and get a headache to be walking that plank.

It may snow tonight, so the whole world is in hysteria mode. Me, I have chosen to ignore. We go about our business. Ross throws a fit to go to bed, the breast pump in the other room whirs, and Reid devours his conglomerate fingers.