<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

July 08, 2005

a couple long days...

At 8 am on Thursday, I got a call from the front office and was told to head out to our alternate site. Which is, like, way out in rural Virginia.

This was immediately after I had woken up to NPR's coverage of the hideous attack on London. I ache for Londoners. Even though I was really lucky that none of my friends were hurt over 9/11, that event had a major impact on me. It didn't help that I had a direct view of the side of the Pentagon that had been struck. And it was the reason why I left the private sector for civil service.

The first thing I did was send an email to the Brooklyn Freckler asking her to let us know that she was allright (BF is taking a little sabbatical over in the UK this summer, and I'm hoping she brings me back a lusty Scotsman as a tzotchke). I had a message from her when I checked again at noon, saying that she had been on the tube earlier that morning. Her notes were pretty short so I suspect she was emailing just about everyone to let them know she was safe.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur: had to brief the boss before jumping in the car and driving maniacally out and PAST the suburbs. Which is weird. Because urban sprawl is the rule, it takes a while to reach bonafide farms. And I had forgotten to bring an overnight bag. So, after finishing my day I had to sneak out, drive back (1.5 hours), snarf down something, pack the bag and return (1.5 hours). In driving rain.

I was the last person at my post this morning, arriving at 7:45. Who are these whackos that get to work before 8:30 am? It is just barbaric. Just kidding. Most of the people I work with take their jobs very seriously, and they work long days in order to make our department successful. So please know that your tax dollars are hard at work...

I'm not really what else I can say, but if I had to give any advice to the Freckler and her fellow Londoners, it would be stop watching news of the carnage, cry a bit as it relieves stress, pick up books with noble stories (I read the Harry Potter books), be ready to take a couple mental health days from work. Oh, and sleeping pills. I like lunesta. And know that you are not grieving alone.

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