Aah, the glories of sleep, of a full night's uninterrupted sleep--except for the dog demanding to go out at about 2:30 a.m., of course. But this morning, Fiorella feels fit as a fiddle, her brain is clear, and her heart is happy.
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Fio is in awe and disbelief of the pack of junkyard dogs that Trump has rounded up to counsel and represent him. Sad.
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Slowly, Fiorella is getting adjusted to La Senora Isadora Computadora. Fio even worked a little on one of her manuscripts last night, but there may be problems to come. The Microsoft disc she got in the mail did not include the key code so Dora is only good for two more days.
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Why is that people who are otherwise quite nice still support Trump? Is it the football game mentality or have they made some sort of till-death-do-we-part religious vow?
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Fiorella has long held the view that all people are born good, but some of us end up bad because of of bad circumstances. But now, keeping up with the latest news reports, she's beginning to disagree with herself. Maybe there really is a bad seed roaming around out there.
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