As if feeling like a ghoul and then admitting it isn't weird enough.

Today I was having a joking text exchange between my friends Lesley and Heidi.  The conversation was getting kind of ridiculous.  I told them to keep going because it was a good distraction from the fact that the (Boston) Federal Court House was being evacuated.  While I am not in the building, I am close.  The saucy conversation was keeping me from noticing the police sirens and helicopters.  Immediately L+H wanted me to leave.  And my response was "absolutely not."  I realized that while my intentions were to try to focus on the positive of the day, I was still mad about some whack job that will probably blame his mother for these horrendous acts. 

My anger from Monday ranges from rational to irrational.  The rational is obvious.  I am mad at the pain it has caused, the innocence of the city that is now gone, and the urge to hunt this criminal down and torture him.  But then the irrational comes out of no where and makes me feel like a nut.

I wanted to have a donut this morning.  The woman that I know recovering from her injuries had a second surgery today.  She loves donuts as do I and I thought it would be a great tribute to her this morning.  Of course, I didn't think of it until I was at work and my building's cafeteria doesn't offer donuts.  I think it's pretty ghetto not to offer donuts.  I settled for the chocolate chip muffin.

Traffic absolutely sucks because of this bomber.  The crime scene has kept a major exit closed on the Pike, therefore four lanes must merge down to three causing quite a bottleneck effect.  And this was supposed to be a light traffic week with the April vacation, God damn it!

Morning radio is talking more (about Monday) and playing less music.  The music that they are playing is that stupid Rhianna song about staying.  I need to remember a CD tomorrow.

I keep looking at all those horrific pictures on CNN over and over again...even the gross ones.   I am mad that I feel like a ghoul.  

And here is where it gets really weird. (As if feeling like a ghoul and then admitting it isn't weird enough.) I am mad that I wasn't there on Monday.  Even though I could have gotten hurt, in reality there were more people helping that getting hurt.  But what kind of sicko wished they were near where a bomb exploded?  Crazy talk...

I do know that I have channeled some of my anger into running harder and longer on the treadmill.  This is a good thing because tomorrow morning I probably will go for that muffin again.