What to write?

That's my dilemma.

I don't want to write about what has happened in the last few months. Hell, I don't want to think about it. Too much pain there to relive when things have improved only slightly.

Don't have anything fun to write about, so can't share anything in the way of good times with y'all. Yes, I have enjoyed a few minutes talking with good friends, but those were either personal or, in the case of a long call from a musician friend yesterday, somewhat irrelevant to my current reality.

I have no intention of writing about politics. I have come to believe that the best thing for all of us would be to ship all active politicians, from the current resident at the White House right down to local city council members, off to some remote and inescapable desert island, give them piles of Monopoly money, and let them jabber at each other like parrots in palm trees. There, they can think they are doing something, while not hurting real people.

News? Don't make me laugh. Nothing to say there, either.

An online "Magic 8 Ball" told me I will get what my heart desires most. That's the most positive affirmation I've gotten in a long time.

So you can see it basically is no fun being me right now. I can barely maintain my optimistic, capable, strong facade for trying to increase my workload (and thus, income), and haven't enough in reserve to display it here.

Sic semper Scribbler, as John Wilkes Booth didn't say.