That's Not Coal in that Stocking
It's been a helluva week. I, like many others, have been riding an emotional roller coaster of highs and lows as I struggle to make sense of the Sandy Hook shootings, seek out the joys and gifts that the holidays bring, and meet the ordinary, day-to-day challenges typical to a working mid-western Mom---deadlines, bills, surly teen-aged children, seasonal affective disorder, and no time for exercise.While it sounds odd, my rides on the CTA Green Line usually have a calming effect at the beginning and end of each day. However, lately, I find myself packed between fellow passengers like a sardine in a can due to the newly designed passenger cars. In this way, I am unable to get truly comfortable reading a book, and the possibility of starting a conversation with my seat-mate is hindered by our proximity to each other. (The other day my cell phone died and I turned to the guy next to me to ask if he could give my husband a call---he was seriously freaked out by my invasion of his personal space, my nose being about 2" from his).
So, I experienced a strange blend of empathy and amusement when my friend sent me this news story yesterday. Empathy for the poor passenger who most likely had nowhere to run or hide as the shit literally hit her commuter fan and amusement for the creativity that this particular individual brought to his crime:
Oak Park police seek CTA Blue Line assailant who hit woman with sock filled with feces
It's no wonder that those convicts from the Metropolitan Correctional Center down the street from my office took a cab to make their get away...
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