No place is safe

No place is safe anymore, not a school, not an office building, not even a fitness center in Pennsylvania, from the ravages of people with diseased souls.

There is nowhere to go,nowhere to hide, no way to predict whether your building will be the next one targeted.

Miserable people killing only themselves has gone out of vogue; now people must kill complete strangers along the way, to inflict upon others the pain that tortured them.

Seems that all we can do is to make sure that each day when we leave our homes, we kiss and hug our loved ones and tell them that we love them; that we savor each day and never take a moment for granted; that we live without regrets and hide nothing in our closets that we might not have time to come back and clean up.

Getting over the Ick

For nearly two weeks now, I have battled some tenacious cold virus.

Big deal. Millions of people actually suffer genuine pain and would call me a pantywaist for daring to solicit any sympathy.

Which makes me wonder: this thing kept me up night after night, sapped all my motivation to do anything at all and ruined great plans that I had long looked forward to. And it was just a stinking cold.

So how do people with actual serious pain, chronic pain -- cancer, AIDS, cystic fibrosis, ovarian cysts, fibromyalgia, etc -- how do they get through the day, how do they focus and get productive things done, day after day? And how do they keep from choking the rest of us every time they hear us whine about a little head cold?