It seems as though my 30s are being defined by disasters of epic scale. Disasters plural. Let's review:
9/11 (I was 29 when it happened close enough)
Southeast Asia Tsunami
Throw in the global financial meltdown for good measure.
Not to mention the usual wars, fires, floods, earthquakes, drought, genocide in Darfur, it goes on and on.
Which brings us to the latest epic disaster--the Gulf oil spill. This oil spill is too much for me to deal with. I am avoiding the news. Me, a news junkie, I am avoiding it, it's too painful, too heartrending, too sickening, too enraging, too despairing, too everything. For a jaded, cynical me. I want to cry, scream, and throw up all at the same time. I want to fast forward time until the gushing oil is stopped, damage assessed, and massive cleanup and recovery efforts are underway.
But I can't.
So I am trying to soothe my soul with sewing and watching non-upsetting movies and listening to non-upsetting music and I am ever so thankful to watch the World Cup this afternoon. Anything to get rid of the searing images of oil covered birds and dead marine life.