Yes. You are correct. My television has been on all day, Twitter has been open more than not, and I've been glued to each alternately. It's been a pretty exciting day. And we've seen this day coming for a long time, yet for months we have wondered whether it would ever actually arrive.
I stayed up late last night, unable to fall asleep. It's a common occurrence. I blogged late and then watched TV and waited to drift off. On nights like that, when I just can't make my brain power down, sometimes the best thing to do is distract it. I left the TV on, and let the drone of voices play all night for the active side of my brain, while the other part slept and repaired itself. It seems counter-intuitive, but it really works for me. The only indication I had that I was listening to the noise at all was that I woke up lightly twice and punched a button on the remote so that the satellite box didn't power down (I wake up every two to three hours anyway, so this wasn't unusual in the least), and at one point before dawn, I dreamed that I met a young woman whose name was Sally Q Something-Starting-With-an-L. Don't know where the L came from, but I am 100% certain where the Sally Q was from.
I was still thoroughly asleep at 5:30 or 6 am when I first started hearing excited rumbles on the morning shows, but I kept drifting off and waking like a skimming stone on a lake, until I eventually absorbed that there was a major step forward in the investigation in Washington with a new guilty plea. Since then I have listened to everyone put forth theories of where things go now that Flynn has crossed the finish line to be first big fish to bargain for tennis prison. It is at once a chaotic trigger, and finally putting the pieces in order to explain so much.
I know that I have been way too involved with this story. I'm deep in the weeds of it, and have been since January. It's one of the few things I really want to study. I thought at first it was a problem, but then I thought about it. There are people who spend their entire lives studying one phase of history, like World War II or Watergate or the Renaissance. They become subject experts. Me, I think I'm going to be an expert on the phase of history I am living right now. Or, failing that, I'm going to try to publish trading cards with all the journalists and subject experts I've been following. "Whoa, you have a Preet Bahrara rookie card? I'll give you a Sarah Kendzior and a Barry McCaffrey for that!"
And of course, as I write, it became a distraction that provided cover to 51 villains who just destroyed the middle class, but that's a gripe for another blog post. For now, I think Rabbit and I will just snuggle and try to live without the news for a few hours. I need to reward her for her good behavior around the kitten today (unlike yesterday, when she dunked his head in the water bowl in front of my guests).
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