It's Going to Get Worse Before It Gets Better
In my defense, I was tired. I had been up since four on Labor Day, although I napped, and to prepare for an upcoming Jewish holiday threw together a few chalahs (those breads Jews make for the Sabbath and holy days, shiny and twisted), one carrot cake, two blueberry, and four sheets of chocolate chip cookies. For a change, it all turned out well, not a burnt morsel, nobody fell. West Wing on Mourning FD and I colluded to tackle a closet and made considerable progress. You know what that means. You label what should go back in, and most importantly, throw a great deal away. At 8 pm, paralyzed, the TV beckoned, I succumbed, chose vegging and watching to reading the new DSM 5. Nothing appealed on the tube so I turned to The West Wing on Netflix . To me, it is new, although a well-respected patient had recommended it years ago when there was no time, no inclination, for television. My luck, I pick a Christmas episode ( In Excelsis Deo ) in which Leo McGarry, White House Chief o...