September 1, 2023

Happy Birthday to me. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. 

Table work for Ben and Angela here last night. I’ve noted before what a strange experience it is, as-- though I remember the mechanics of writing it the play-- there’s almost no deep recognition of the lines. They strike as though I’d never heard them before, as though they’re somebody else’s thoughts. I suppose that’s good. Discovery, careful listening to fathom what I might have meant. Did a quick re-write to shorten and cut a bit of gray here and there. 

Radio reports that 22 years after 9-11, not one prisoner has yet been brought to trial. I thought at the time this one exception from the Rule of Law would damn us, and clearly it has. The evil circus surrounded Trump and his minions could not have assembled had the confines not already been loosened. 

I looked up a recipe online for a certain kind of cookie (which I ended up not making) and my pages are full of articles and adds for exactly the same confections. It’s a kind of hell to have your desires–however passing and minimal– multiplied and echoed.

Met DJ and J for birthday drinks at the Village Porch. Thought I had phlebitis, but it seems to have been exhaustion and going too long without an aspirin. 

One year blends into another.