Day 32: It Really Stinks.

My goal for tomorrow is to keep moving. That's my goal everyday. As older folks tell me, "I keep moving because once you stop and don't start again you're done."

I watched the second night of the Democratic Debate. Those who are licking their chops over the idea of Kamala Harris debating Trump forget how smug Dems were picturing Hillary dismantling him too.

I support Mayor Pete Buttigieg. I have since before he officially announced. I'm scared of people who are constantly yelling and pointing fingers and talking at me instead of talking to me.

Pete has the gravitas the Presidency deserves. Especially in times like these.

And he's only 37.

That's a bonus, not a liability.
My oldest cat pooped on the floor in his litter room for the first time in about five days. So disappointed. Wish I knew the cause.

There's a fog trying to reach me. You know. That dreary, regretful feeling that seeps into your bones. The feeling that beats and tries to defeat you.

I will outwalk it in the morning.

Cat poop really stinks.

It's the shits.

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