I wrote a piece about Op-Eds this morning. An Op-Ed about Op-Eds. But then, I decided not to post it here this evening. Yeah, it’s dust.
That is the way of the Polly Brain.
I am an over-thinker. And a bit of a people-pleaser. I don’t want to hack anyone off. I worry, sometimes excessively, about what others think of me.
So tonight, I’m just going to lay low. It has been a long day of sucking wood dust out of our home. It feels like I have dusted all day, and everything is still coated with wood dust from our recent floor refinishing. It is just thick. Everywhere I look.
A carpenter must have been here. I saw dust.
Saw dust.
Okay, okay. The polyurethane vapors are still ever present. I am still in the grasp of the brain blurbs.
So until tomorrow, I think I shall wallow in the grime.
And one more thing. Does anyone know what a Thane might be?
I just keep hearing,
Polly, You’re a Thane.
Polly, You’re a Thane.
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“Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)”
― Horace, The Odes of Horace
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“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.”
― Pablo Picasso
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“…weariness seemed to settle on him like a coating of dust.”
― Maria V. Snyder, Magic Study
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