The week just flew by. I’ve been drowning in deadlines lately, chained to my laptop, literally working 
my butt off, leaving me no time to even think about my blog, let alone write a blog post. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’ve been gratefully writing away.
But it does beg the question, why is it that life is always either a matter of feast or famine? All or nothing. Don’t give yourself a headache trying to come up with an answer, it’s a hypothetical question. I don’t think there is an answer.
Anyway by about 3:00 p.m. on Sunday I was desperate
for a break. My brain was tired and aching, my eyes were burning, I was seeing double and my fingers were cramping so badly I thought I’d never again be able to straighten them out.
So I made my fourth cup of coffee of the day and turned to the New York Times for a brief respite. And found an interesting and thought-provoking piece by Teddy Wayne in the Sunday Review section. Thought it was worth sharing, and then realized it would make a great blog post.
At first glance it seems clever and amusing, but if you think about it for a minute, it’s really a very sad commentary on the world in which we live — where bad and worse-than-bad behaviour has become the norm; and we’ve come to expect an “apology-or-two-or-three-or more de jour.” As if that really fixes anything. Or means anything.
Read Choose Your Own Public Apology and weep …
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