Time, as Steve Miller would say, keeps on tripping tripping tripping into the future. WHY AM I QUOTING STEVE MILLER IDK THE APOCALYPSE IS HAPPENING THIS IS ONE OF THE SIGNS. If I start saying Jimmy Buffet things, please proceed to your panic rooms and don’t come out.
All I am trying to say is, honestly, I do not know how my days can get any thicker. I am packing the everloving shit into each and every waking minute, y’all. I feel like there will be a breaking point, but so far the seams are holding. The density of days is contributing to this feeling where time is simultaneously moving slow over the longer term (only one month since inauguration day? HOW?) yet at lightning speed within each day. Can we just take a moment and congratulate ourselves on filling the days to the gills, please? How are we making time expand to fit it all in? To keep up with work, and organizing, and friends, and fam, and community, and projects, and you know, desperately doing all the things to stop that fire hose of garbage spewing at us ? I know that whatever I am doing is never really enough, but let’s not focus on that for just one second and focus on the fact that I am LEGIT HUSTLING, and if you are too, GO YOU. If this shit goes down the crapper, it’s not because we didn’t work our fucking asses off, right? At least we can say that.
I just realized that the lyric is time keeps on slipping slipping slipping into the future. I think? Dipping? Flipping? Quipping? OH PLEASE I WANT IT TO BE QUIPPING. This makes it more appropes to me.
Anyway, just checking in to say WHEW, and OMG, and CAN YOU BELIEVE THESE TIMES, and, especially to you if you are hustling your hardest: WE GOT THIS OR MAYBE WE DON’T BUT WE ARE DOING ARE GODDAMNEDEST SO YAY YOU.
Let’s go, quipping into the fyootch, friendlings.