I’m not hurt if you don’t. I’ve been neglecting the hell out of this blog. For any of you who may have been emotionally invested in my ramblings, I am deeply sorry.
I have an excellent reason though: my brain no longer works. (Pregnancy brain – I thought it was an excuse people made for poor work performance and that it wouldn’t happen to me, but seriously you guys, it is real and pretty freaking humbling.) Specifically, I cannot stay focused on anything for more than a couple of minutes. Continue reading
When I was in high school, someone decided the theme for all the literature we would read in grades 11 and 12 English would be “imprisoned lives.” We did read some great books, but it was a gloomy couple of years.
One of the more painful offerings we studied was “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” by Aleksandr Solzhentisyn. In case you’ve missed this one, (spoilers) it’s about a day in the life of a guy in a Soviet labour camp in the 1950s. It’s a rough day, by our standards. He’s sick and hungry and cold and he lays bricks and life is hard. But at the end of the day, he’s kind of happy because it was a good day, comparatively, I think because he wasn’t beaten and maybe someone gave him a cigarette. I don’t completely remember. I can’t say I loved this book. Continue reading