No Monday Morning Montaigne this week, dear readers. While I did start reading Book Two of the essays this weekend, and found the first three — Of the inconsistency of our actions, Of drunkenness, and A custom of the island of Cea — quite engaging and worth rambling about, I didn’t have time to do so. I didn’t get into a writing mood during the train ride up to Boston yesterday, and the loud 3-second buzz that occurs every 3-4 minutes in my hotel room has left me a frazzled wreck.
Really, the fact that I’ve put these sentences together is something of an accomplishment.