Sigh... with Frown

It's not news anymore, since his funeral was today, but I've had a vague, grumpy, unhappy feeling for the past few days. I reached the bottom of the barrel of bad moods last night, when I just go into a repetitive lament where everything is just 'stupid.' Stupid people. Stupid work. Stupid whatever.

There's other stuff going on right now (like not getting even an interview for a job I wanted - and had been promised an interview for; like learning I have to have foot surgery - more on that later) but on occasion I realize that there might be less immediate things poking the sad part of my heart.

It seemed like a revelation the night after the space shuttle Challenger blew up when I was sitting on the couch frowning and unhappy and my mother suggested that these kinds of things can make you unhappy. It didn't seem legitimate. I didn't know anyone who died on the shuttle, why should I feel its impact? Moms know these things though. (And fifth graders don't.)

On the train ride home this afternoon I wondered if feeling sad about Tim Russert wasn't just the icing on my pity party cake this week.

I Tivo'd "Meet the Press" every Sunday morning. Before Tivo I always tried to wake up early enough in the morning to watch "This Week" and "Meet the Press." Yes, I thought his head kind of reminded me of a pumpkin, and his inquisitions of guests sometimes bordered on ludicrously detailed. (I don't remember what I said yesterday, much less what I said on April 17th of 2005, but it didn't stop him from confronting every guest with quotes from their past.) But I will miss Tim Russert.

I still had last Sunday's "Meet the Press" on my Tivo on Friday when I learned he died. I deleted it without watching. As bizarrely and sickly fascinating as it might have been to watch someone who was oblivious to the fact that he'd die in just five days, it didn't seem fair. He didn't know it, why should I?
I'm sad for his wife, for his son. I'm also sad that he doesn't get to know how this year's election will end.