After weeks of trying to calm myself down and convince myself that it was a good thing that I'm about to be forced to search for a new job and home with a bank balance leaning frighteninly into the negatives, today I found out that I will not have to leave so soon after all. It's always such a weird feeling when you've worked hard to accept a reality, only to have it pulled out from under you like a magic tablecloth. So dear blog friends, it looks like you will be able to continue vicariously living small-town reporter life through yours truly for a little while longer. So that's the funny.
Unfortunately, the only reason I know this is because one of my co-workers wanted to cheer me up. Last night I found out that a girl I went to high school with was killed in a hit and run. She and her boyfriend had just been out for dinner where he apparently proposed to her and they were walking home when they were struck by a drunk 18 year old driving an SUV.
She wasn't one of my best friends, and I don't think I had seen or talked to her since high school, where she was a couple of years ahead of me. But we were in a couple of plays together, and hung out with the same crowd. And I remember when I'd talk in this annoying gremlin voice I used to do all the time, she'd laugh and talk to me in her own gremlin voice. She was sweet and stylish and kind of weird and i liked her.
I read that she was hoping to be a social worker and called herself a femininja. Her fiance was a doctor. Now, instead of planning a wedding, their families are planning two funerals. I guess I don't need to point out the tragedy.