Today is Tuesday but the other day it was Sunday, and morning. I woke up and said “let’s have some Irish Whisky,” but I spelled it -ey in my head and she didn’t notice. It was about taking back some kind of control. The whiskey, I mean. Like a little ante meridian drunkenness would really show ’em, regardless of who ’em were. I thought it would be a nice way of diminishing other people’s expectations, when really all I was trying to do was lower my own. I think I had juice instead and was still disappointed on Monday.

Bear with me, I’m going to start doing a little actual blogging here. For a while I was doing this on Medium, but I’m sick of that. I’ll still post my usual literary whatevers, but seasoned to taste with a more or less daily bit of drivel like this, here, above. Because, speaking of expectations, there are far worse things on the internet.