I was going to start by complaining that I attended a meeting that lasted from 9 a.m. to 5:15 p.m. today and how I never thought a meeting could actually take all freakin' day -- and even go 15 minutes past the listed end time.
I was then going to bitch about how, even hitting the road home later than usual, traffic was at a freakin' standstill and it took an extraordinarily long time to slog my way home.
I was furthermore going to start by harping on the fact that some kid who was supposed to be picked up an hour ago is still here.
Instead, I choose to start with this:
I hadn't heard the news about something happening in the world today until I was driving home. Near about 80 were killed in Nice. [The English speakers among us look at that typed word in that sentence and ponder many an antonym to "nice."] Bastille Day. Fireworks at the seaside. Revelry. Terrorism.
It could have been anywhere, really. It has been anywhere and everywhere.
Today, it wasn't in Amsterdam, where Eldest is at the moment.
It wasn't in Oakland, where Le Daughter and I were.
It wasn't in Petaluma where Youngest was at soccer camp.
It wasn't in Glen Ellen where Pete was working.
And the horror of it is it could be anywhere tomorrow.
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