I visited Hell, with Odysseus on his journey home to Ithake. Everyone there was quite cordial, singing the praises of their former enemies.
I watched Hell on television, as aid workers hosed off tiny little FlapJilly-sized Syrian humans, who did nothing ore heinous than wake up in the morning.
I heard about Hell on the radio today, as the use of military force was seriously considered. Did none of the Trumpians ever see Princess Bride? William Shawn's advice was true then and it's true now - Never get involved in a land war in Asia.
Traffic in Tucson seemed to fit right in; the two or three accidents/incidents mentioned during usual rush hours blossomed into more than a dozen before I turned the noise off in frustration.
On the plus side, I felt a new connection between my leg and my belly and it showed in my performance at this afternoon's Pilates class. It hurt like Hell when the nerves reconnected, but somehow this part of the journey through the Underworld had a bright side.
Nope, I'm still not enjoying the ride, but it gives me an excuse to share one of my favorite Grateful Dead tunes as a Have a Nice Weekend gift: