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That's not particular depression on my part, but that hymn has come up in two different Netflix series I've been watching lately. Compare and contrast- 1920s:
-and 1950s:
Been almost two weeks since my last words here. Alive; mostly well; busy, obvsl. In that time, our solar panels went online and, until last weekend's return to wintry times, had begun generating all but about six kilowatt-hours of our home's entire energy needs.
Work's been on-and-off intense. A major hearing yesterday got postponed despite Congressional crap making it very difficult to do so; another can got kicked down the road this afternoon; and then there are consumer clients. One of them called me yesterday, leaving a voicemail which said he had "a couple questions about the previous bankruptcy." But that's not what Siri heard:
I like you too, dude, just not that much.
Tomorrow will be my second snow-filled trip at ass o'clock in three days for hearings in Rochester. Yesterday's went fine; tomorrow's will be five minutes of actual sentience surrounded by three hours of knuckle-crunching agony driving in and out. At least my opponent hasn't professed his love for me. Yet.
More after tomorrow. Good night and have a pleasant.
-and 1950s:
Been almost two weeks since my last words here. Alive; mostly well; busy, obvsl. In that time, our solar panels went online and, until last weekend's return to wintry times, had begun generating all but about six kilowatt-hours of our home's entire energy needs.
Work's been on-and-off intense. A major hearing yesterday got postponed despite Congressional crap making it very difficult to do so; another can got kicked down the road this afternoon; and then there are consumer clients. One of them called me yesterday, leaving a voicemail which said he had "a couple questions about the previous bankruptcy." But that's not what Siri heard:
I like you too, dude, just not that much.
Tomorrow will be my second snow-filled trip at ass o'clock in three days for hearings in Rochester. Yesterday's went fine; tomorrow's will be five minutes of actual sentience surrounded by three hours of knuckle-crunching agony driving in and out. At least my opponent hasn't professed his love for me. Yet.
More after tomorrow. Good night and have a pleasant.