Could be raining

At this point I don’t care if the Mercury retrograde is responsible for all of this month’s ugliness.

I just want it to be over.
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Why do we expect things to go well all the time? Why do we expect people to get along and do the right thing? Is this a uniquely American trait?

Because I’m pretty sure the folks in Iraq and Israel and Lebanon don’t think that way.

They expect things to go badly.

And while I’m sitting here mildly irritated by a half dozen things that didn’t go my way between the shower and the train station, folks over there are hoping and praying someone they love doesn’t get blown to bits today.
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There’s a woman sitting behind me on the train talking a million words a minute into her phone. She’s speaking so fast it sounds like a foreign language.

And it’s not a conversation – the other person isn’t getting a word in edgewise.

It’s an odd comfort, knowing that things could be worse and that I’m not the only person she’s irritating right now.
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It could be worse. Yep.

It’s a by-product of our easy American lifestyle.

We comfort ourselves with the misery of others.

It’s why the Maury Povich show is so popular. It’s why that appalling American Idol gets big ratings.

And it’s why I don’t feel quite so badly about things this morning.
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I am listening to: The rain
I am reading: My guy Steinberg, for whom it’s always raining
And I am: Mildly irritated but feeling guilty about it