Yes, it's been a long frakkin' week. I am sadly surprised that I've reached the point in my career where I think about each week with the same amount of dread as my late friend Nick. I am thankful that I don't regard it with the same loathing he did, poor man, but the mandates et al have definitely cut into my one-time love for reporting. I'm not out of love, not by a long shot, but now I'm more in love with the idea of retirement. I could retire at 62 and earn a very small old age pension and I'd be happy to work with that, and my inadequate 401k, rather than work any longer. Ah, well. Things may get better, and sometimes I still have fun things to do. I interviewed the woman who won 20 Jeopardy games; went over to her place and chatted for a long time, took pics, etc. So there's still that aspect of the job to focus on.
At least part of the problem (at least for this week) is the fact that on Wednesday, my old stomping grounds in Moncton, New Brunwick, Canada, became the site of a triple murder of RCMP officers. The murders happened maybe a little over a mile from where my apartment was, and the lock down area imposed while they hunted down the shooter was 2,000 yards from the apartment. Add to that the fact that my brother is an RCMP officer, and it does perhaps, make my surreal Wednesday and Thursday more understandable. At first, I was surprised at how much this affected me. Why should it affect me, I wondered; I'm 33 years away from Moncton, and I lived there less than five years. Ultimately, none of that mattered. It hit me hard, and that was the end of it. I was glued to twitter and the CBC live stream on the computer. My brother was even more affected; he wanted to suit up and go hunt the perp, but that was impossible, so he had to wait along with the rest of us. He allowed himself to weep after they caught the killer; all RCMP are family, and there's a lot of healing that will need to be done.
So I got to the weekend and was looking forward to it - and then my back started acting up, and, while I was doing exercises (first day of doing them), I did an exercise that triggered my problematic neck nerve, which in turn triggered a brief, but intensely painful, cluster headache ... I am now going to end this sentence because it has too many clauses and not enough organization.
Now, however, I'm ensconced on the couch, with a heating pad on my back, and some nice Brazilian music coming out of the speakers that BB found me yesterday at the Sally Ann; Logitech speakers that plug into my laptop so I can get my streaming music. And if I can just get one or two union-related emails out, I should be able to focus on Chapter 23.
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