Not peckish or sure, I guess I could eat hungry; I mean just shy of George Costanza pulling an éclair from the garbage. Forgive me, my stomach is empty and my brain is overfull.

My keyboard is trying to tell me something. Strings of this letter interpolate themselves in every word.

For me, MCAS did not play well with the latest COVID booster.

I wrote an entire essay — the one I was having so much trouble finding a way into — in a week. This is far out of my usual practice.

I did something I didn’t plan on yesterday: I signed up for a four-week writing class. It may be the forcing function I need to get an essay idea unpacked.

The teacher in me may be appalled, but the imp who writes is awed — by a kid’s daring, resourcefulness, and utter lack of shame in disrupting my daughter’s class.