2001-11-12 - 1:35 p.m.

I'm glad for it, too. Since I came in this morning to the news of yet another plane crash. In New York. Strange that everyone is waiting, hoping, to hear that it was just mechanical failure. Some fluke, something concrete. It's crazy, hoping for mechanical failure. At least that we can get our minds around. Can understand, on some level, or at least rationalize. Because an engine failure, well. You can't blame that on someone. Some unnamed, faceless someone, after us. And more dead in NY. The passengers, the people in those houses. Feels like it will never end. I told Yelnad this morning that I just feel like crawling under my desk and curling up in the fetal position. News seems all bad, these days. Every day I get another phone call from a friend or acquaintance, telling me they've been let go. Laid off. Downsized. Whatever. I worry about my own job - there are rumours of "streamlining" and "consolidating", and although I am in good standing with management of this company, my position with my immediate boss is not so solid. Since she's a psycho and I'm the mouth. So.

And tomorrow, I am to get on a plane, at the ridiculous hour of 7 am, for yet another business trip. I don't want to travel, I don't care about this job. But I know I'm lucky to have it, and I need to be a little more proactive. I made a preliminary list of some of my expenses, as I'm trying to build up my emergency fund. (Heh. I typed emergency fun. I should probably be stockpiling that too) and I was, quite frankly, appalled at the amount of money I piss away on a weekly basis. And I'm going to be mighty sorry that I didn't cut down on my houseman if I lose this job.

Maybe later I'll tell you about my current relationship angst. Nonstop fun here, today, no?

Oh, and one more Veterans Day aside. At the little country store upstate where we buy the paper, there is always an old man, sitting in an old, rusty, avocado green Chevrolet, selling poppies for Veterans. Every weekend he's there, sitting IN his car, with the box of poppies on the dashboard. No hard sell for him. Anyway, we always buy them from him, every time, sometimes one on Saturday and one on Sunday, because there is no way in hell I can resist an old person selling anything, especially Veteran's poppies. The boyfriend and I, if only one of us is going to the store, call to each other, "don't forget the Veteran." Every weekend. But this one, Veterans Day weekend, he wasn't there. Either day. I am going to hope that he was being honored in some parade, and that's why he wasn't there. Because today, I can't even contemplate any other reason.

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