The last few hours were spent doing taxes. I am left with a sense of being overwhelmed, of being unable to come to grips with the information required. There is a sense of “being out of it,” of being disconnected, of being much less effective and capable than I have been in the past, a mismatch between my innate sense of my abilities and the perceived actual day to day expression of those same abilities.
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Letter to P.M. Harper

This is the text of Item 10. It makes me glad to think that in three days there will never again be grounds for a blog post title such as the one above. I am proud to have helped make history, however minor my one vote contribution.


The Right Honourable Stephen Harper
House of Commons Ottawa,
Ontario Canada
K1A 0A6

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Awake for at least two hours. Sense of turmoil. Spent time in bed trying to understand what is taking place.

First came a dream of which I only have fragments, the final frames before I awoke. The image is that of a wide curved bridge across a chasm. There is a person running across the bridge toward the viewer. The viewer is high above the bridge so that the curve of it is visible as is the whiteness of the concrete from which it is constructed. I thought the person who is running is me but I am now uncertain of that. It is possible it is someone else, perhaps a female figure.
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