It's just a morose post.
Because, really, I do think about other things, and talk about other things. It's just been a little fic-heavy here lately. Mind you, this won't be much of a post; it's been a very, very long day (note to self: don't, repeat don't, forget a major feature until six hours before deadline. Bad kaffyr .) But a few scattered thoughts.
- I'm getting used to hands that are constantly numb and swollen to a greater or lesser extent. Still not quite used to how slow and old it makes me feel. But woman, you are old; the trick is not to give in to the cliches, and live as fully as possible. Right?
- I'm watching a documentary on the lives of children and young teens in Cap Hatienne, Haiti. Bright kids, perceptive kids, brave kids, hopeful kids, even when they sleep in doorways and sniff paint thinner to dream. And no rescue, no hope. Dear god; there are no words. I need to dig deeper in my pocket.
- All I can think about when I read about the Tuscon shootings, and about the young man charged in the deaths and injuries, is the personal tragedy. The lives gone forever, the lives changed forever, the evidence of a wounded, confused, frightened and shattered mind that took down all those other lives while it floundered. I'm a political junkie, but I can't bring myself to join, or even review, all the political, quasi-political or socio-political analyses and discussions. Even thinking about thinking about the political aspects of the event makes me sick. Why is that, I wonder?
- On the other hand, it pleases me no end to be able to say the Illinois House and Senate have now voted to abolish the death penalty in this state. Now it's up to Governor Quinn. So ... some good stuff.
- Have I mentioned how much I love Bob yet in this post? No? Well, let me remedy that. I love him so much; there are days, like today, when thinking about him is balm to my soul.