In which we suppress a freakout about democracy.

April is a month of travel for me. Twice to Tennessee, once to Orlando, once to New York, and in between a visit from my in-laws (who are lovely). I neither love nor hate travel, but that schedule is a little heavier than I’d like. Why? I lose pieces of what keeps me grounded when I travel–the meditation, the exercise, the semblance of sleep–and come back feeling behind on everything. I suspect I can get better at this and get better at letting go of that feeling of being behind, but for this morning I just want to complain.

Reading: I’m in the middle of a bunch of stuff: The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles, The Phoenix Project by Gene Kim, George Spafford, and Kevin Behr, Big Fish by Thomas Perry, and The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching by Thich Nhat Hanh.

Listening to: I put on the new Wednesday record for the first time this morning, and I’m enjoying it immensely. The new Blondshell album is also out, that’s next. I think the first half of Lana Del Rey’s record is record-of-the-year type material. Finally, The White Stripes released a deluxe edition of Elephant, which includes a live set. My favorite concert ever was on that tour, so I’ve been jamming to that as well.

Watching: The Mandalorian (this week wasn’t great, sighs), the ongoing insanity of Vanderpump Rules, Abbot Elementary, and the pure brilliance of Succession.

Playing: Elden Ring.

Habit Review: 3 of 7 days meditated; 4 of 7 days working out; travel is a motherfucker.