For months now, I visit this page and I feel a stab of guilt. I think, I should be writing more, writing about what I'm reading, or about the art of writing itself... I need to be productive somehow, or I'm letting all this alone-time because of social distancing go to waste!

But the fact is I can't think of anything to say. I read things, I watch things, I patronize the Los Angeles Public Library, and I'm trying very hard not to lose my mind. It turns out, enforced time at home because of a global pandemic, the flame-dive of the economy, and watching my democracy die in real time is not very conducive for witty writeups about... whatever it is people write about. See you on the other side of the election.