homeland insecurity

I feel ridiculous and childish for being so sulky right now. Depressed and sick, I slept much of the day away. Not having a television or radio at home means I can successfully cocoon and avoid the long version of What’s Happening Now. The short version is that the United States is going to war, taking a gigantic withdrawal from our karmic bank account, one which will certainly overdraw us.

I don’t know when I’ll get to see Scott again, and this bothers me more than any of the political bullshit. jetBlue’s ticket prices are insane right now, and I don’t know if it’s because of the impending war or spring break or what. Southwest isn’t much better, and doing a search on “all the other airlines” on Expedia provides me with fares over $300.

Needless to say, I don’t have three days’ worth of water stored up here. I think that might take up all the storage I can muster, and I’m unwilling to be that paranoid. At any rate, if something happens in the Bay Area and you don’t hear from me, don’t panic. If I’m okay, I will stick Zen in the cat carrier and walk to work – the nice thing about being only a mile away from it, now – and let someone know that we’re okay.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.