on being way out of it

• A highway bridge connecting Minneapolis and St. Paul collapsed this evening during rush hour, killing at least seven people and injuring countless others. I heard the news while listening to the Cubs game on WGN radio, and as I absorbed it, I fell to my knees, in tears. I know hundreds of people in the Twin Cities. I am related to dozens of people in the Twin Cities. I may never be aware, really, of all of the people that I know who were actually there, who may have come within mere moments of being hurt or killed tonight. The sense that I am a local comes to me at odd times, random times, obvious times--and is very clearly with me now, as I write this, tears on my face again. And what I am thinking is, now do you think there's always going to be time later to say what you want to say, to do what you want to do, to be the person that you want to be? [For the rest of this story, see WCCO-TV online.]
• I was out of town this weekend. Spent a few days in the wilds (in more ways than one!) with a very, very good friend. It was so good to be away from the loudest apartment on the planet. Had a great time. Posed for some pictures, bought some stuff (blue blouse, black sweater, brown shoes, silver earrings), ate some good food and some mediocre food, slept on the world's flattest pillow. I took some time
  to clear my mind
  and gave myself a change of atmosphere....
• Also this weekend, I became a great-aunt. It's hard for me to grasp, really, that the little pumpkin that I held when she was about 6 hours old gave birth on Saturday to my great-nephew. Mom and baby (and dad, not quite incidentally) are well and happy. And the world is changed, again.
• My job continues to confuse and dismay me. Pettiness and irritation abound. Work is done, undone, redone. Favors are granted and rescinded. Projects are begun and abandoned. Through it all, I wonder whether there is any purpose to it. Do I accomplish anything? Does my effort have worth, or am I merely a cog in a useless gear in a useless machine, grinding simply for the goal of grinding? If I had a job digging ditches, would I at least have the sense, when the ditch was dug, that I had a ditch to show for my effort?
• The plants are fubar. I think they're pissed off that I was gone all weekend and left the blinds open. Lots of leaves fell and the ivy is positively bizarre, all standing up and weird looking. I'll be happy when fall hits and these dumb things go dormant again.
• The Cubs are in first place, 8 games over .500. Will wonders never cease?
• I am seriously thinking about leaving this place. I don't just want to "leave," though: I want to move toward something else. And I haven't the first clue what that something else should be. So here I shall remain...for now.