Torah studied (OK, not exactly Bridget Jones-style): 30 minutes/one essay and 2/5 of an amud (page) of Talmud.
Ironing done: 40 minutes/eight shirts and a handkerchief (I think).
Pasta cooked: 12 oz. (sauce from a bottle, sorry; I am hoping to cook properly tomorrow).
Distance jogged: 2.20 miles in 25 minutes – apparently averaging 11 minutes 38 seconds per mile.
Material submit to publishers on spec: 1 article, 1 book.
Time spent worrying about politics even though I can do NOTHING about any of it: far too much. (I would say I could vote or protest or something, but it’s painfully clear that that achieves nothing if the Establishment isn’t listening.) I worried about Brexit, and… I won’t say I worried about the Vietnam War (I was watching Ken Burns’ documentary series again while I did the ironing), but I pondered the lessons of that conflict and how they could apply to the Arab-Israeli Conflict and to Brexit, and I was saddened and despairing.
Also saw my sister briefly and wrote 750 more words of my novel (I don’t know how long I spent, probably somewhat more than half an hour).
I still feel that I haven’t done much. Or at least, I have, but I wanted to do more. I wanted to do a full hour of Torah study and finish that amud. I wanted to write more of my novel than I did. I forgot to clean out the fridge where I spilt pickled cucumber brine the other day, leaving the whole thing smelling a bit of pickled cucumber. E. says I don’t give myself enough credit for the amount that I manage to do given how depressed I feel at times (I wanted to go back to bed after lunch), but I just see the list of things to do and wonder how I will ever get it all done. At least my mood did pick up as I did more things and I stopped feeling that I wanted to go back to bed.