"I’m boycotting the recount stories. They make me feel terrible and there’s nothing my watching them can do to help."

Said I, in the comments in last night's café. Some commenters insisted I needed to shout about the outrages in the works, and I said, "I can’t shout about anything without studying and understanding what’s going on and I am not going to be goaded into doing that." And, "There’s so much alarmism from all sides these days. I am unimpressed." The pressure continued, and I said:

Those of you who are alarmed about "stealing" the election have a taste of how many anti-Trumpists have felt for 2 years. He "stole" the election.

I simply do not know the facts and don't think I can learn them, so I am declining to add noise to the noise.

IN THE COMMENTS: Joan wrote:

All of you calling bullshit on Althouse saying "Trump stole the election" need to check your reading comprehension. That's not Althouse's opinion, it's the opinion of the anti-Trumpers who have been saying it for 2 years.

Sooner or later we're going to hear "turnabout is fair play" from them. They miss the fact that Trump didn't actually steal anything. They fielded a bad candidate and failed to cheat enough to overcome her deficiencies. They're desperately trying, after repeating the first half of the losing formula, not to repeat the second half of it.

FWIW I'm with Althouse. I have nothing to contribute and don't need the anxiety. Somehow the Republic will survive, no matter the outcome. We survived Obama, and Trump has already undone a lot of the harms that were inflicted during his terms.

And Jessica wrote:

I feel the same on a broader level. Substitute "recount stories" with "all political news stories" and that's where I am. I research enough to cast a responsible vote at various intervals, but that's it. When I stopped all ingestion of political news, I emerged from a fog of worry, dread, and anguish. And guess what: All that worry, dread, and anguish was uttlerly pointless. As in, literally, it had no point, other than clicks for the purveyors and entertainment (however masochistic) for me. When I decided to find my entertainment elsewhere -- in my job, my children, my home, my faith, novels, history, apolitical TV -- my entire life got better. I feel happier, I'm more grateful, I sleep better. I still check in with you, Althouse, a few times a week, but that's it. No more politics. A weight has been lifted and I've lightened my steps.

"The only career I wanted — as his wife — was just beginning!"

Meade sent me that a propos of the discussion the other day about the little girl who said "When I’m a mom I’m not going to get a job. I’m just going to look after my children." There are 249 comments at the moment on that thread, many of them very good, but let me pull out one that's stuck in my head. Jessica said:

Thank you, Ann! Eight months ago I left Big Law (and a $200,000) salary to stay home with my daughter. After we tallied all the economic costs of working (extra car, extra gas, work wardrobe, dry cleaning, child care, increased meals at restaurants) and the utility costs (a hectic and stressful life, and a shallow and reduced role in my daughter's life), our choice could not have been more clear. Thanks for making the point!

I'd identify the artist, but Meade doesn't remember where he found it, and Googling the text, the closest I can get is Comically Vintage, which takes comic panels out of context. It's clever and often hilarious — e.g., this ("I... don't understand it! It feels so... so... hot!") — but I'd like to know the original context and the artist's name.

Leaving Chicago.

I stop to memorialize the botanical arrangements in the hotel's 2 lobbies:





Pic #1: 7th floor. Pic #2: ground floor.

Looking up from street level at the building we still call the Sears Tower, which was visible — from the 39th floor — along the right edge of the second picture in The Chicago Breakfast Café:



Meade took the wheel of the TT, and I tried taking pictures from the passenger seat. Unlike that time we drove home at night in the rain after the Dylan concert, the blur of movement didn't work too well. I had to wait for red lights, and I liked this one, with that onion dome:



ADDED: I'm not going to "still" call that the Sears Tower, since that was never the Sears Tower. That's the John Hancock Center — as several commenters, including, here, Jessica, have let me know.