I spent the day in Melbourne, a bizzare town on the east coast of Florida which is near a vertex of the bermuda triangle. I went to this point, on the shore of the Indian River, to eat my lunch. Water which had been emerald green on Friday has given way to rust red today. The shore is covered with every type of dead fish imaginable, which is surprising for a river I had pronounced dead a decade ago. The rains these past few days had washed a lot of fertilizer into the water, and yadda yadda. Bloated puffer fish bobbed up and down, staring skyward with clouded eyes. Stingray and catfish defended their corpses with menacing spines. Legions of ants stormed the beaches to claim their prize. Everything was beginning to smell ripe. I didn't eat very much of my sandwich.
To make everything else seem peachy, I visited my parents. My little cousin Amanda has lost her calf muscle to a flesh eating virus! She is now in a drug-induced catatonia because the doctors don't think her eight-year-old mind could handle the situation just yet. I expect that at her age she will someday have a bionic leg. That provides some solace, but not much.
I'm starting to feel some regret for the way I handled the hitchhiker-kicking-out-my-windshield situation, but at the same time I'm almost proud of my assertiveness. Anger = bad, I know, but this person can't go on thinking that such behavior is acceptable!