Friday, March 21, 2003

I've been called "super sensitive" on more than one occassion. Dear 'Ole Dad loves to make fun of me with a story of the time Andy had to have a couple of shots at the Dr.'s office. He was OK with all of it - but 2 year old Me cried and cried everytime they stuck him.
I can feel my Super Sensitive-ness coming out with all this war talk. Usually I love to discuss current events and politics - but now I have this "chill" when war talk comes up. (Even with my students - you'd think I could talk at a 6 year old level without feeling weird) It's not that I'm scared, or morally opposed, or anything like that . . . it's more of an empathy thing. What was it like to wake up at 6 o'clock on a Thursday morning to bombs exploding all over the city? What's it like to be in 100 degree desert heat with a stuffy gas mask on? How scarey would it be to be an Iraq-y solider contemplating if I should take my chances and surrender to the Americians, or take my chances and fight? I remember how we felt on September 11, 2001 - and we only had two building blown up - how would it feel to have lots of building blown up? It's rather unsettling . . . I don't like it.