It really is always something, isn’t it, whether it’s all the trainings I’m supposed to undergo at Lehman, but probably not at all required to undergo, or [Tune] waking up having wet his bed, or all the dishes I had to wash yesterday despite saying, ‘The one thing I don’t want to do is wash dishes.’ 

May 20, 2020

Some kind of machine cuts up the road outside again. Five floors up it sounds like the engine’s in the room with me. Alternate side is in effect today. There are groceries to buy. At least S can pick up the kids today. Fourteen days until the next deadline. There is not a lot of hope but I will send something, just because…

I’m reading–listening, mainly, actually–to Roving Mars by Steve Squyres, a memoir about the two robots that went to Mars and long outlasted their planned mission. It’s interesting, and he tells the story cinematically. (Unsurprisingly, it’s been made into a short film on DisneyPlus, where we spent a few hours this rainy long weekend watching Science Fair–amazing–and Own the Room–disappointing). The Squyres book is partly research for a chapter of the memoir. But it’s also a tale that’s alternatingly encouraging and discouraging as it describes the path to the completion of a big project, and all the support and luck necessary to make it work. It makes the work of memoir writing seem small by comparison. What doesn’t, next to a robot bound for Mars?

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