A sad, sad day in Chardon...

I was unaware of what had happened and of what events were unfolding in Chardon this morning until I arrived at work. I had seen helicopters as I pulled off the freeway, but I chalked it up to nice weather for flying. I had barely walked into the office when I was told, and I was immediately informed that a co-worker’s kids were okay and already with their mother. I pulled up the live news coverage, minimized the video and plugged in so I could listen as the news was updated, almost minute by minute.
 
An hour or so later, we learned that another co-worker had left in a hurry. His cousin was one of the victims. We were relieved when he contacted someone in my office to tell them that she was stable. By lunchtime, we learned that another victim had died at the trauma center of Metro.

I came home to more coverage of this tragic incident. We didn’t talk about it much. We just watched.
 
Now it is 1:15 a.m. I was in bed at 11, but today’s horror kept making the rounds through my head until I had to get up and write about it. It is too fresh, too awful, too close to home.

What a sad, sad commentary this is on our human existence. News reports say that this boy was picked on and made fun of by his peers. He was obviously troubled. He was obviously different. He obviously thought about taking these actions for some time. He obviously wanted his peers to know his intentions; otherwise he wouldn’t have posted such things on his Facebook page. No one listened; no one reported what they saw or read; no one took the threat seriously.
 
What a hell of a way to learn that we are put here to care for one another. When we ignore the plight of others, we upset life’s intended balance and things go awry. Maybe we need to spend more time teaching our kids how to be kind, caring individuals. Better yet, we should be teaching by example, by being kinder, more caring adults.
 
I’m heading back to bed now. My heart is aching for the victims and their families, and I will try to pray myself to sleep, asking the good Lord to help them through this horrible time. But I’ll also pray for that troubled, misunderstood boy who felt so unheard and alone that he resorted to this awful violence.

Friday morning and all is quiet...

I’m sitting at home alone waiting for the cable company to come make the switch from landline to cable phone. It’s time to cut expenses and make more moves designed to spend less, pay down debt and save more. I can’t be the only one thinking this way, but certain things could not be changed until now.
 
Of course, if someone in Rhode Island hadn’t walked off with my Powerball win, I would just pay it all off, invest the rest and live out my life worry free. Alas, it was not to be. I bought that ticket, recited my mantra “give me the Powerball, I am the Powerball” and it worked exceptionally well. I got exactly what I asked for…the Powerball number…and not a single other number in the winning play! Next time, I’m editing my mantra!

Of course, I shouldn’t complain. I got a 33% return on my investment. I spent $12 and won $4. That is better than my normal return, which is 0%. I will be making strides, however. I will quickly find out what my latte factor is while I’m laid up for 3 months after surgery and unable to drive. I’m sure it will be an eye-opening experience.

Okay, the New Year’s resolution to blog weekly…

Has pretty much hit the skids. I rather thought once the holidays were behind me that life would quiet down and I would have time to accomplish something other than work, dinner, grocery shopping, and laundry. Who was I kidding? Like the rest of life, you have time for those things that you MAKE time for; it never just falls into line without a specific plan. I am getting more accomplished on a daily basis using my Action Machine. But I still need to define my plans better. Even then, things happen that just can’t be helped. But with a more detailed plan, maybe one can keep things from getting too far out of hand.

Today I began moving my stuff downstairs. My whole life has to be relocated to accommodate upcoming surgery. No stair climbing for two months minimum post-op. Clothes, office supplies, computer, printer, printing supplies, all my bills, extra checks, meds, toiletries, etc., all have to be moved. The list seems endless. Just one more thing to keep me from my writing tasks, but never fear…once I get home from the hospital I will become a writing machine! I have lots of projects to complete during my medical leave.

Every week is a new adventure!