Or maybe its something I heard on BBC. But I feel that summer is waning right before my eyes, and I have got to maximize what days are left. The fountain, in the Capitol Park in Salem. Kids playing in the other fountain joyfully. Or I suppose walking the long stretch of concrete with sun reflected off of concrete buildings, no doubt increasing the sun's impact on my skin.Summer is the time to read fiction, hence Bleak House. It is written in a style of language from mid 1800s, and the bleakness so far reminds me of Lemony Snicket (that I only read a little of).
I am so out of the habit of blogging, but I am going to start today. What else is waning? I always think my organization is waning, or that my days there are waning, but as I told one of the many many people who have been ushered out, I am still there, kind of like a cockroach after a nuclear winter.
But I have another large government organization to research, they want to interview me. I promise my next blog will be more pithy and not boring as this one w-a-n-e-s a-w-a-y.
