Despair.

There are times I despair about the future of humanity. It's not that I'm worried about a titanic hurricane hitting my 1500 square foot dwelling. Or terrorists blowing up my keister. Or the icecaps melting and submerging us all.

No, what I worry about is that all the world has been struck by some pernicious virus or there's lead in our cosmic plumbing and our brains are rotted out and are turning to mush like a watermelon left too long in 120-degree heat.

What I worry about are account people writing sentences like this: "I'm afraid the client is digging in her heals."

Or people fundamentally unable to fathom the difference between there their and they're. Not to mention its and it's.

We live, I'm afraid, in an instantaneous era. When your thoughts of one minute are sent to hundreds of your "friends" a nano-second after you have them. Instantaneousness has somehow superseded measure and care. Everything reads as a blurt. Everyone thinks as a blurt. Everyone reacts as a blurt.

But, as my account friend might write or right: "that's all for know."