How to survive the news-- maybe

So, it's a drizzly Friday. I hope it clears off (it's not predicted to do so, though), but at any rate, we have a half day at work. There's a fundraiser this afternoon: a big ol' golf tournament that raises money for our Education Foundation, the organization that funds things like field trips and so on. In this age of python-tight budgets, we depend heavily on things like today's tournament. It's part of the homecoming festivities, so it's pretty well attended. School's out early because many of the teachers either work it or play in it. Not me, I can't, but it's still a good cause. So, c'mon, Momma Nature. Be nice.

The float building went okay yesterday, and from what I hear, the mini parade was fun and enjoyable. Again, I was home. I had Holly, and G had a tooth extracted, so my priorities were here. Maybe next year I'll go and take Holly, but she needs to be in bed by 7:30, and the event started at 6:30. Not gonna happen. And I didn't want to leave G in charge, as he was exhausted. I'll do my duty tomorrow at the games, helping kids sell crockpot food. 

It's actually not been that wacky a week, far less than I'd expected. Dress-up days have been low-key (though I really appreciate the excuse to be comfy all week). I'll get out early today, head to the grocery store, then come home. Or home then grocery-- I have not yet figured out my plan. Either way, chores will be done. And tonight, G and I have theatre tickets to see Anything Goes. I'm a sucker for Cole Porter music, and a little light entertainment sounds about right. 

Yes, I'm trying so hard not to get panicky about the news cycle. AI-led combat? More food recalls? Violence "justified" by twisting Bible verses? It's all too damned much. And an addled leader? And misappropriations of funds that were meant to go to SA victims organizations, to traditional allies, to anything but government-paid-for propaganda? I don't want to live in 1984, the text that is. Well, the year wasn't all that great, either. As you might recall, that was when the government was denying the root cause of AIDS. Stupid playbook never ends, eh?

That all said, we can, for a moment, suspend our horror by doing the little community things that bring us temporary relief. Six-float parades. Theatre. Ice cream and hugs. 

Hang in there, folks. We can be frightened --and we surely are-- but we are legion, too. 

C