February 12, 2018

The Spirit of Trump pervades all things.

I am striking out every time at bat.

Lucia tries to comfort me about Night Music by observing that the new actor didn’t have to look at his script very often at all.

Bird feeders and a go-pro (I think it is) and a goblet and a rifle to shoot bugs from the family for Christmas.

Finally talked with Q. He is oblivious to the severity of his actions. Or, to put it another way, the way one judges the event depends on if one believes S was in actual danger or was being selfish and hysterical. He believes the first. I know the second to be true, but cannot fault his impulse to protect those he cares about. Just wish, one time, with someone, I might be the one cared about. Being right never, ever wins the day. It has taken me a long time to learn this.

Good playwriting class. We left the room smelling of tangerines.