pop-pop-pop ... the newish normal

Of late, and with increasing frequency, I feel like I simply cannot cope. I cannot cope with the vicissitudes of  Washington (what's the latest corruption and who are the last players) in ways I might have once taken an intellectual interest in it all.

I feel like a sink full of water into which dish soap has been squirted and a sprayer brought to bear ... bubble after bubble after bubble floats and waxes and wanes and I simply cannot any longer sink my teeth in. This is not mopey. It's vaguely frightening, being that I must now pray that someone else will take up cudgels against what my mind might once have done. It's not that I 'won't' do something. It's that I simply 'can't.'

What once were smarts are now drip-dropping, 'slip-slidin','  away. There is an occasion sense of wooziness to complement the latest incapacities.

Perhaps the seemingly endless days of humidity around here contribute. Humidity takes the stuffing out of me. But I doubt it. I am getting dumber in the same way I am getting shorter ... quite literally.

I can't keep up with Donald Trump, his lawyer(s), the investigation that seeks to nail Trump and his minions to the lately-anointed Russian, the Chinese/American trade trade war, spiritual conundra, life's foibles, etc. .... I can get a sense of the panic in the face of forest fires in the West, but even there, it's hard to keep up.

Keep up with the Jonses? Hell, I can't keep up with whatever is left of my popping-bubble self.

Literally, not just sweet-talking metaphorically.