The last few days have been the "interesting times" of the old Chinese curse. Even so my motivation has been fair dinkum, with only the normal levels of "I'd love to stay in bed" that apply on winter mornings.
Today seems different.
I woke up wishing I could just skip Friday and go right to Saturday. I can't really explain it. It's probably just anxiety, coupled with the uncertainty of whether or not I'm a slave to the Democrat junta or still a free man, and my near-complete powerlessness to have any effect on which it is. Or fatigue--the actions of that cabal of gangsters in DC have taken me into the realm of outrage, which is exhausting if you're not used to it.
History focuses on the leaders and the big men. But on the day that Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the people still got up and did their jobs, where they could, and the economic machinery of Rome did not falter (or not much) even as the civil war raged. As I said in an earlier message, for most of history, war was something that most average people simply heard about; the only ones affected by it were the ones living where it happened to occur.
That is my fervent prayer, that war stays away from my little unimportant town, on the border where city meets agriculture. Prayer is the only thing I can do.
But, I think, that will be enough.