This one isn't personal to me, though, not like Challenger. 9/11 wasn't personal, per se, but it was so huge that I mourned anyway. I have no impulse to grieve now, and that lack puzzles me, makes me suspect myself and my reactions. But it's the truth. (Rather like the fact that I haven't mourned my grandfather's recent death. But those are deeper waters than I want to wade in right now.)
Work today was rather like a continuing edition of As The CTX Turns, mostly occasioned by a brand-new schedule being announced all of 12 hours in advance. I am now working 12:30 - 21:00, with Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. Which is fine by me, but many people were much more painfully affected.
Leaving work at 9 felt positively weird, as though I was sneaking out unlawfully. (Probably abetted by the fact that the place was hopping and understaffed when it was time for me to go.) But driving down 101, it occurred to me that -- I was NOT WORKING. And things were OPEN. I am ashamed to confess, but my idea of wild debauchery on a Saturday night is to hit my favorite cafe in Palo Alto, order a double latte, and continue rereading Freedom And Necessity until the place closes down. (Call me a yuppie and I'll smack you one. Yuppies don't, I am fairly sure, have to consider whether to pay the electric or the phone bill first.)
(Parenthetically, re: Freedom And Necessity, I think spenceraloysius would be amused to know that I visualize James Cobham as being rather like bumblepudding. I do not know what he will think of the idea, although I predict that he will protest too much.)
Yes, I can think of much more debauched, and still enjoyable, things to do on a Saturday night, but elflet was booked, and I'm out of the habit of calling yohannon for last-minute fun and games. If you think I should add you to my list of people who can be called at the last minute, add a comment. :-)
Now, of course, I am typing on a caffeine high and ruining my sleep schedule. Also, elflet baked Snickerdoodles and left some here when he went off to have fun. Yum.