Anyone else in that precipice-of-spring rut, or just me?

One would think the lingering daylight hours and sun streaked landscapes beckoning blossoms and blades of grass would be a welcome respite from what has been, despite a somewhat disappointing lack of snowfall, a seemingly endless winter slumber. And yet, there’s this feeling of nearly one quarter of the year being over, with little to show for it.

‘This train isn’t going anywhere.’

So barked the conductor as we attempted to set off on our journey into the city this past weekend. And with those five words — and a last minute change to the departing track number — the dye was cast for the day.

Social media can be a cesspool, this much is true. But lately, it’s the predictability that gets me. The blatant toxicity as people scurry into their established respective camps to dig in and defend whatever the accepted perspective of the day might be.

I recently shared a humorous {in retrospect} story with a friend, where I felt compelled to leave a raged-induced voicemail {at 1 o’clock in the morning, no less} meant for the maintenance department who handles {‘handles’ being a very generous term} work orders in my apartment complex. Problem was, it wound up in the main corporate mailbox, and was fielded by probably the nicest, most competent woman employed by said corporation. Whoops.