Tired, Tired, Tired

I was so looking forward to curling up on the couch last night watching don’t-have-to-think tv, when my cable box gave out. I had to think. It was HORRIBLE. How do thoughtful people do it??

Actually, I’m feeling so sick of chasing down people to fix things. Today I have to deal with fixing the cable box, trying to reach the people who fixed but didn’t actually fix my printer, the landlord about fixing the intercom, the dentist about my teeth.

I took this on Sunday, it’s one of the 9/11 families entrances to the site. The firefighter is a young man, but he is certainly old enough to remember 9/11, the little boy was probably not born yet. Oh wait, does that balloon say happy birthday? A child of one of the families born on 9/11? Christ. That pretty much sums up life—every day there’s something to mourn and something to celebrate.

9/11 Families Entrance to the Site

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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