Chiming the time when you came to my room
So my vacation ended and it feels appallingly apt that immediately on returning to the Boston area I had to see a doctor I hadn't planned (and have to call another doctor tomorrow) and other than watching the latest episode of Chernobyl (2019) my day was otherwise devoted to my paying job. There were some fireworks over the Mystic, their highest explosions just barely visible through our skyline of roofs and trees. Happy Memorial Day.
And then I wrote more than a thousand words of fiction. For the first time in five months. On a project I desperately want to finish because once it is out of my head I will have more room for other things, I hope. Also I enjoy it.
Not a joke: I need more vacations.
And then I wrote more than a thousand words of fiction. For the first time in five months. On a project I desperately want to finish because once it is out of my head I will have more room for other things, I hope. Also I enjoy it.
Not a joke: I need more vacations.

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Yes. There are no safety nets. There is no expectation of safety nets. There is no national desire to take care of anyone. You are supposed to produce as much as you can for the people who can afford it and then you're supposed to die. And there is no reason for it. It's like the Oyneg Shabes studying the Nazis: it's inefficient. The country would run so much better with a little institutionalized compassion. But the efficiency is not the point; the scope for cruelty is.
People being able to take vacations and not fear starvation and illness would go a long way to making this a better place.
I think that is true. I think it would improve the lives of everyone I know. I would personally enjoy it.
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