Saturday in the office, chipping away at the freelance stuff. Slowly, slowly this stuff is getting wrapped up. That credit card debt is startin’ to sweat. His days are numbered.

Ugly week. I’m sure everyone felt the shockwaves sooner or later. I found myself sort of pacing all week long. Didn’t get too much done on the mag or on special projects. Mad and confused and hurt. Too many questions. Too many larger wonderings. What next? Why? Who? Why? Why? Why?

The news is numbing. The 25-hour-a-day coverage is fascinating…one big documentary doesn’t stop. I’m concerned and I watch the coverage, and find myself getting addicted to it. Strangely comforting to be involved from my couch. Sad. History unfolding in front of us.

Little uneasy when I see people up in arms. Last night we went down to a bar in Encinitas. I went for one reason and one reason only, to back a friend up. That’s it. Safe rides to and fro, strength in numbers sorta stuff. I was sickened by the crowd. Happy, beautiful, bored youngsters sipping drinks and laughing. It didn’t seem appropriate. Business as usual? Not for me. A security guard led us all out onto the street for a quick vigil. Laughs and comments just seemed so trite. Then some cat who served in the military somewhere along the way jumped up and rattled off a spiel about how we were gonna bomb ‘em and Go America and this and that. People yelled cheers. I have a hard time sharing in the fervor.

This thing is going to get ugly. I hope we do the right thing.