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the gene

Tuesday: I’ve always tried to keep my email inbox at 30 or less. At the moment, there are 92, many of them demanding to be read at length. Help! Of course, read some news, so I see that Obama and Sanders have endorsed Biden. Please God may it help. And that the orange blowhole is disintegrating daily. When will they pull the plug? How terrifying that a vindictive lunatic has such power, that his party will not stop him.

Truly, the days fly by and I can hardly remember a time when I went out, shopped, went to the Y on the streetcar – the streetcar! Met friends and family, went to movies – movies! And plays and concerts, with all those people, all those germs. Heedless, we all were, of the infinite danger on all sides.

Today, most of the day sitting in a chair going over edits – a very long process, as each one has to assessed and accepted or rejected. I got through one pass and am now going through again. Hardly moved all day. Not healthy, just sitting.

Tomorrow, crisis – wine is needed. Monique and I decided to try some kind of communal wine run, though I hear the lineups are massive.

Last night, after Jane Eyre, it was My Brilliant Friend, only I’m not enjoying it as much – the passions of these young women are getting repetitious. But I will stick with it.

My bum has gone to sleep.

Wednesday morning: 99 emails. Like bottles of beer on the wall.

Last night, the second half of the show about genes on PBS – riveting. They spoke about the work of two French biologists, Jacob and Monod, and I swelled with pride – my dad worked at the Institut Pasteur in Paris several times, working with Jacob, and loved it. How he would have marvelled at the human genome project, genetic engineering, and most of all, the cures they are finding for genetic diseases. How I wish I could tell him.

Onward.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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