Off to San Antonio, in the morning. Getting up at 7am (ugh!) to be at the airport by 8am in case TSA is going to be a problem...since my flight's not till 9:35. But I'll have a book to read and my laptop.
Three hour layover in Baltimore then a nearly 4-hour flight to SA. Getting in about 5pm, central time. The return trip is about the same, just changing planes in Nashville, instead. I'll be nice and cranky.
There may also be a trip down to Washington DC in July, but as of now that's the only other trip on the horizon. Which makes me happy. I used to love to travel, but it's become such a chore...as well as so damned expensive...I'd sooner stay home.
Being done with Taking Nicky brought on my usual vague depression at the completion of a project. Since I'll be too busy to worry about starting anything new till I'm back from SA, Tuesday night...maybe not even through the whole week...I'm hoping to just skate past it.
I'm so tired of how things are in Washington and around the world. Seeing the monsters on the loose, everywhere, and knowing how many jackals exist to support them. It cuts deep. Hard.
As I was inputting this, Henry Fonda's speech at the end of The Grapes of Wrath was playing on my phone. I'd scrolled to another video clip and when that one was done, this followed. From 1940...and not a damned thing has changed.
He was robbed at the Oscars...even Jimmy Stewart said so.
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