November 5, 2020 Heading north. And again, like everyone else, I wake up with a strange sense of unease, the anxiety of not knowing what to do with yourself, so such thoughts as they appear in the mind, in my case as I shake the remembered dream of an old restaurant you worked in losing all its character, going corporate, if you will, old friendships strained where you are left high and dry, wasted of his years. November Fifth, and I'd hoped by the morning there would be a clarity, better signs of a Biden victory, but for which we must be patient, painful as that is. Still too close, uncertain by its own uncertainty. When will, on top of that, my mind goes, Mom call, in what mood, with what questions... Did we have too much confidence last night, after Wisconsin and Michigan went for Biden? I chatted with an old friend from the hometown, Hilde... who spent some time up in the Adirondacks, in rehab. The convoluted way a woman talks, the mys...
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