It is raining in Toronto, a cold spitty rain and I can look down on the raised highway bisecting the city from the lake and see the slowed traffic. There was a pair of police cars zipping along the slicked asphalt, little cherries shining - they sound quaint from this height and through plate glass. There was a truck stumbling along with the word Train on the side of it. I went downstairs before for a walk and saw a homeless guy huddled under the walkway at this building.
My suffering is a drop in the ocean of humanity's suffering.
I have a phone interview at 4:30 today - so I'm going over to my office in the other tower. It is deserted, except for a phone on my old desk. It will help me talk with the HR person. Bye for now.