I just came home with a bad stress headache after spending several hours fighting my way through the iciest wind and rain this year to look for clothes and grab some food at what used to be a halfway decent cafe/bar (The 13th Note) only to wind up paying twice as much as I did six months ago for the same stuff. My head was pounding under the backwards-worn cap I have barely taken off since buying it at H&M last Saturday, then suffering a bad head-cold at the time.
I pulled off soaked jeans while MJ went for a shower; I slapped on the gas heater and got a couple of calls from friends telling me what their plans were for the night. I tried not to feel guilty about spending what seems to me a large amount of money, regardless of whether or not I objectively know I can afford it.
In the meantime I switched on my pc and started checking out my usual haunts, mostly blogs by WIlliam Gibson, Patrick Hayden, Charles Stross and the like. I couldn't understand why many of them were talking about the '86 shuttle crash. Maybe it was the anniversary, I thought.
I was feeling pretty befuddled, which was why it took me a little time to realise the shuttle that crashed in '86 had a different name. It was called the Challenger, not Columbia. I went to BBC Online and realised what had happened.
William Gibson puts it best here.