High Anxiety

I've been in a state of heightened worry all day long. Much of it has to do with stewing over all of the awful predictions I listened to last night, but it certainly did not help any to wake to morning news images of people lined up outside of IndyMac Bank crying over their lost funds. Perhaps no other visual seems to hearken a decade of financial turmoil than people desperate to retrieve money from a failing bank. Checking my own retirement account balance only worsened my disposition.

Although some students won a law suit repealing the 'no annoying Catholics' law, the editorial pages were filled with rants about the papal stance on procreation that only increased my own annoyance.

I spent the afternoon sitting on the most savagely uncomfortable bench listening to scientific talks of which I understood very little, staying awake by counting the "ums" of the speakers. (Kudos to the Black Knight who clocked in with a mere 26 - a model of poise and self control compared to the 129 and 178 of the other two speakers.) During the talks, I developed a rather robust and audible case of lactose intolerance, cringing with discomfort at each riotous complaint of my intestines.

I decided to leave work early. My ill mood conspired to drain away any amusement I might have found with the gibbering groups of incessantly cheerful pilgrims singing and dancing all up and down George Street. However, I managed to cheer myself considerably by farting on them on my way to the train station, secure in the knowledge that I would not incur a hefty fine for doing so.