All of those Republicans who are quitting the party and calling on folks to vote Democrat, are they doing it because they honestly, genuinely detest Trump and everything – and the word everything is crucial here – he is doing or are they simply unhappy that he doesn’t seem to be as in thrall to the Reaganite free marketeer dogma? They keep repeating with regret that “this is no longer the party of Reagan” like it’s a bad thing.

I just don’t believe that the second Trump goes away everything will be fine. Economic globalism and free markets at all cost are bad with or without Trump. I want to take a stand against that and not just against Trump or any specific individual. I want to see a general consciousness that this is the real issue. I want a real plan that addresses this real issue.

I’m not following the World Cup but Uruguay was always my favorite team. The legs on their players are a work of art. Really, really beautiful players.

I’m glad they won even though I’m deprived of actually seeing any of the famous legs this season.

When I was a kid, I was never hungry. Crowds of adults danced around me, trying to tempt me into eating something. But I hated all food, even the kind kids usually love. I remember being constantly nauseous throughout my childhood because I couldn’t stand the look and smell of food.

And then I traveled to the UK at the age of 14. The climate is different in the UK, and people have different metabolism. Portions are minuscule compared to what we consider to be a normal portion in Ukraine. So for the first time ever, I experienced hunger. And it never went away since then.

After the gallbladder removal last week, the doctor came to see me.

“Do you have any questions about the surgery or the recovery?” he asked.

“Yes!” I said. “When can I eat?”

“Erm. . . What?” the doctor asked, looking like this was an unusual question to hear. “Are you hungry? Erm. . . That’s a good sign, I guess.”

The only time in adulthood when I didn’t feel like eating anything was in the two days after giving birth to Klara. Other than that, it’s always mealtime for me.

I totally blame the small-portion, a-boiled-egg-is-dinner Brits.