Reflection, interrupted.

I started a post yesterday that was about how I have often identified myself to strangers as a retired teacher. My point was my instinct to slide in without creating a stir.

But from the time I started writing this out to the second I returned to my desk with my second cup of coffee, I was struck by the awareness that self-reflection is an indulgence and triviality when the (uncapitalized on purpose) president of our country and his monkey-do vice-president ganged up on the weary leader of a ravished, smaller nation at war with a blatant and dangerous aggressor, demanding fealty and payback before kicking him out of the white house.

I can’t distract myself with myself. The only thing that’s landing is my shock and devastation as I look around and take true stock of where we find ourselves.