More of the speedy white out pictures. Its snowing here...a scattering of white and we are all having throaty symptoms which doesnt make this girl happy. I am making lists of things to do and pack for Saturday's lift off to SF. I am packing light and predictably. No fashion shows in the bag. Brief and to the point.This dragging the world with you and then not using half the stuff approach cannot continue. Going to LA at Christmas reinforced that for me--watching my smart kids pack appropriately and having plenty to wear and plenty of layers. I am watching and learning. Hopefully, this test will work.
My phone went on the fritz at the gym, so I am rebooting it...and may reload all the software prior to taking off. The last thing I need right now is a phone that goes south. How come that always happens? Technical breakdown and clients loading you up just hours before a trip. It's in the air. Now, I need to reconnect with the hotel and piece together how to get from the ariport to the hotel on BART. Also, need to get money, charge batteries, find my phone jack, pack my work (this is the most important and knowing how flaky I've been--this is the think I am likely to space on!).
I don't like how the world feels these days. To talk to friends and clients about the tenuousness of their jobs and with some, their identities wrapped in these jobs is nervewracking. Everyone is frozen in place with their hands poised in mid air waiting for the hammer to come down. Tomorrow may change for me,for my family, for our life...tomorrow, may not change for me, my family or my life. With uncertainty and change, many are paralyzed into inactivity which flows to those of us who are steadily putting one foot in front of the next, pretending not to feel the earth shaking. And the anger I feel for the greed and stupidity of unregulated bankers, of childish adults buying houses bigger than they can afford and the "I want it, I need it " headset that has been commonplace for at least a decade. More I think, but def. 10 years. If you cant afford it, don't buy it. And the shake out is that we are all paying in jobs, education etc. We cannot afford this war. We cannot afford to bail out all the fat cats who get million dollar bonuses. Why must some feel the pinch--particularly those hourly folks -- for the errors of so few--the edge sitters in the financial centers who live a fantasy funded by these workaday people? I would like to be a part of the revolutionary lynch mob who are speaking today in Mr. Made Off's trial. Shades of the french revolution. If Mr. Made Off is 70, and we are talking a life behind bars, how more should he pay? Maybe a hand? a foot? His time?
Lots of anger here.