I get home late, around midnight. I haven't had a drop of alcohol in two days, which feels good. I unload groceries. I make myself bacon and eggs... and toast. I feel like making a fire and writing by hand tonight. S is staying at a hotel with her mother who's in town.
I think about people who are maybe now in their late 20s or early 30s who did all the things they were supposed to do to feel good about themselves, supported the supposedly right causes, did their five minutes of hate every day after Trump was elected, went to the right protests, posted the right things on their social media, cancelled the right people, listened to the right music, watched the right shows, read the right books, masked up… and now, after a decade of rote adherence to manufactured opinions… are just….