where wildly different is perfectly normal
I don’t like bridges
I don’t like bridges

I don’t like bridges

I really don’t like bridges. Ihatethemhatethemhatethemhatethemhatethem. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s deep and it’s intense. My first year teaching I was living in Iowa and teaching in Illinois and thus had to cross the Mississippi at least twice a day. I handled it well, except for the couple of times I had to race bad storms/tornados across the river. Right after my school year ended, the bridge I crossed umpteen billion times to go to school was closed. They had found concerning “issues” that required urgent repair. (Note: I could be wrong about this, I’ve blocked out most of that year, but I know there was a bridge that was closed and it made my soul shake). This was but one of thousands of reasons I left tire marks hauling ass out of the state to move to Colorado.

In case you haven’t heard, a major bridge over the Mississippi River in Minneapolis collapsed tonight at the tail end of rush hour. Tom called to tell me this tonight and I…I really don’t like the feeling of blood rushing out of my head. It’s not a fun sensation.

I was in Minneapolis this past weekend. Ihatebridges. I was supposed to travel that very bridge on Sunday, but because of puke-poor directions from the guy at the airport, I got quite lost and found I-94 a different way. Ihatebridges. If I had traveled that bridge on Sunday and saw today that it collapsed, I’d be drinking heavily right now and not writing about it. Ihatebridges. Ihatebridges. Ihatebridges.

The poor people on that bridge…those kids on the school bus…I can’t imagine having the boys in van with me and have that happen. Even if we were ok, A wouldn’t be ok. It would tear him up. When I hear of kids in situations such as this and that they’re not injured, all I can think of is they’re not ok. And some are more not ok than others. There’s no bandage large enough for that.

I can’t believe this horror. I just pray the death toll is as high as it’s going to go.

Whaddya think?

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