It’s Friday night and I want to go to sleep so I can run in the morning before it gets really really hot as it’s supposed to do. I just played poker with friends for about five hours. It was my first poker night. It was really fun to go from thinking I’m secretly great to realizing I don’t know what I’m doing.

And then tomorrow, more World Cup. The day off from it felt weird. No soccer? Wait, what? Why not? What’s going on?

So, France and Argentina. I’ve got to go with France, here. Argentina is just Messi without much creativity in the midfield. If Pogba has a good game. I think France will run away with it. My prediction is 2-0 France.

Uruguay versus Portugal in the afternoon. I hate both teams for their star players. I also think that they’re evenly matched. I think this one will go to penalties after a 1-1 draw.

I’m feeling forty-one tonight. I just want to sleep and I’m looking forward to coffee in the morning.

I wrote something two days ago about 45 that’s been getting a lot of attention. Friends shared it and it’s been spreading. I feel a few things about it. First, I like that I wrote something from the gut and that it resonated with people. I had planned a much more reasonable article but I got fed up and just wrote what I was feeling. Second, I like that people liked it enough to share it. Someone that I didn’t even know contacted me through Facebook about it and I didn’t know the person she got it from. But third, I’m scared that the trolls are coming. I’m scared that this will come back to haunt me. These are scary, divided times.

In the end, empathy is the best policy. Reaching across the aisle is the only way to move forward. But I was pissed and while I’d have a reasoned discussion about any of the points I made with anyone who was interested. I still stand by the emotion that brought me to write it in the first place.