A brief respite

"... There is now no chance of us avoiding a perilous, all-pervasive climate breakdown. We have passed the point of no return and can expect a future in which lethal heatwaves and temperatures in excess of 50C (120F) are common in the tropics; where summers at temperate latitudes will invariably be baking hot, and where our oceans are destined to become warm and acidic. 'A child born in 2020 will face a far more hostile world [than] its grandparents did,' McGuire insists."

I am not a fan of the chumps who introduced and voted for this amendment, but I am disgusted with everyone—the other 97—who voted against it.

Yep.

I gotta push it to the limit, and I keep finding the limit isn’t quite here.

My knuckles, my heart rate, the cortisol levels… why?

White knuckling it this week.

I can prevent this, but I feel like I have to ride it out right now.

What fucking bullshit this past week, huh?

I’m sure a lot of people can say this: It is hitting me today that in some facets I am the same as I always was, maybe even more so—authentically. In other fashions I am decidedly different, both on purpose and as the tides of life ebb and flow. In other ways I’ve lost my anchorage. And in some of that, I’d like to fix—regain position, keep perspective.

We will miss you, Greta.