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It is 0518. I have been awake may be an hour. Pain wakes me up as it usually does.

The sadness that is there, the sadness I deny is there, filters in. I’m smart enough by now not to fight it.

I’m watching the wonderful performers of CinCity Burlesque do their striptease acts. They simultaneously mock and affirm our sexuality as classic burlesque stripping usually did. I like these women because they don’t have “perfect”bodies in the Playboy permanent adolescent perfect sense. They like to move their bodies. They dance, even though they don’t fit the expectation of what dancers should look like. Burlesque is always a mocking of our stereotypes, a parody of our lusts. They provide the important diversion from my pain.

I am enjoying my morning coffee and a slice of cinnamon babka. I’m feeling sleepy again. Maybe I will get up in time for the 8:30 Mass, or at least the 11:00 AM Mass. What with the deception of latest clerical scandals, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. But I persevere. I seek Jesus in His Holy Church, infiltrated by most unholy men.

The exercise is paying off. My shoulder has less pain, more mobility and flexibility.

Mrs DFD has work today. I will miss her. We are having dinner tonight somewhere. I hope it’s nice. We went to a French restaurant a couple of weeks ago that was pricy, but the food was very good and the atmosphere superb.

So I’m going back to bed after one more cup of coffee.

Later, dear readers,