Scott and I are in the middle of moving. We have a new apartment picked out and half of our house is packed up. It's a stressful process and, in spite of the fact that this is my 34th move, it never seems to get much easier. Yesterday I had to go over to the new place to inspect it and pick up our keys then run by the store to get a new vacuum cleaner since ours might as well just be the world's worst broom. It wasn't until I got back that I saw what had happened in Boston.
Standing in my living room, with the knowledge of yesterday's tragic event sinking in, the boxes and stacks of books and an unassembled vacuum cleaner suddenly seemed a lot less important. In times like these, I can't watch the news, stare at photos, or read about it all over facebook. I am overcome. The only thing I could do--the only thing I wanted to do--was sit down on my living room floor and watch Star Trek.
It's surprising sometimes, what comforts us, how we find solace. For me, yesterday, it was a tall glass of milk and three episodes of my favorite show. By the time Patrick Stewart was telling me all about new life and new civilizations, I'd started feeling a little better. The familiarity of my TV friends, the succinct plots with mostly happy endings, and the ambient, electronic sounds of the ship were enough to console me.
Nothing can erase what happened yesterday. But I'm glad that, in times like this, we're lucky enough to have the little things that soothe. For me, just like when I was a little girl, it's a glass of cold milk and TV. What about you?
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