Depressing Adulation

I finally finished Camus' The Plague. What a depressing book. Here's a synopsis [skip to the next paragraph if you don't want me to "ruin" it for you]:
Here's a character. Look how interesting they are. You love this character. Now, I will kill them in the most painful way possible, taking at least two, no, three pages.

Actually it is not as bad as that. It just seems that way. Finishing this book was like have a splinter removed from my paw.

Don't bother to read this paragraph. I just need some place to keep track of my disc golf scores. Yesterday I played so badly that I lost track of my score. Today I was playing better than ever. I ended up with a 61 for 17 holes (I had to skip #14 due to a group of 6 in front of me). My previous best was a 65 for 16 holes (where I skipped #5 and #14).